Political Correspondent
It was a sound that unnerved me, rather than the actual sight of the dilapidated Chernobyl nuclear plant.
I knew, as I walked towards it, that radiation was continuing to spill out from the facility, but I couldn't see, taste or feel it.
However, the Geiger-counter in my hand was working overtime.
As it detected the gathering presence of ionising radiation, the warning 'click' sounded more frequently.
When my colleague, cameraman Ken Fogarty, and I reached the plant's security gate, I looked down at the screen of the device.
It had locked - the reading was off the scale.