The southern part of the camp has mostly been demolished by French police and set on fire.

In among the smoke and debris, reminders that people lived here; we spot a shoe and a burnt out bicycle frame lying amid the charred shelters.

It's like a conflict zone.

We were walking to the north side of the camp with a group of Scottish GPs who wanted to provide any care they could to those in need.

One of the first people we met was Brish. He was from Sudan and was an avid Liverpool fan.

He was eating a Tunnock's caramel log when we arrived; a surprising sight which brought the refugee crisis home.

He had travelled across dozens of countries and hundreds of miles to end up here. His mother had been killed and sister kidnapped in Sudan. He travelled to Libya where he was tortured before then heading to France.

Everywhere he had gone, Brish had faced persecution. It was chest problems caused by tear gas here in Europe that he was seeking medical attention.

One thing clear from the start is that there are no women in sight. All of the women - and most of the children - are housed in shipping containers. Fingerprint access means only some can come and go.

The main part of the Jungle is separated into different areas. "This is the Syrian section, over there is where people from Afghanistan live," one aid worker tells us.

But despite the divisions, there is a sense of people coming together.

A main 'street' has been created, with restaurants, shops and a barber. People here are after some sense of normality. Routine still exists for people in this chaos.

We sat eating bread and rice in one of the many places open for business. It's something I wasn't expecting to be doing. The whole story is not always told in the pictures we see on television.

Tahir runs the restaurant. He also sleeps there at night. He knows all about Scotland - even has strong opinions on the independence referendum debate.

He told us his restaurant is usually always busy, with many coming to talk about their next step forward.

Tahir said: "One man alone is not good. If I discuss my problem with you, I share my problem. If I keep the problem to myself, that's not good."

It's clear that despite the poor sanitation, squalid conditions and the power struggles - something positive does exist here.

There is community within this crisis. Like the burning embers we saw on our way into camp, there is some hope hidden among the debris.