So tales of horror and the abyss were brushed off as the County Edition team begun its journey to Loyangalani. A small oasis town, with Lake Turkana on one side, and rocks stretching for hundreds of kilometers on the other.

The adventure begins after Maralal…and there is an irony here somewhere…for the road, if one can call it that, is nothing, compared to the heavenly views that dot the Kenyan landscape….breathtaking.

Back to the sorry excuse for a road…it’s almost as if somebody poured rocks on a path and glued them together.

If you had a heavy breakfast …trust me on this one, its sustenance will soon get depleted.

It’s thus easy to understand why, when leaving Marsabit, to journey to other parts of the country, residents commonly use the phrase, “ we are going to Kenya.’

And speaking to one legislator from Marsabit, (where from border to border, one is looking at a distance of about 800 kilometers, easily making this the largest county), the size of constituencies here is a vindication for fuel allowances claims.

But his plea for a helicopter allowances may not go down well with taxpayers.

Relief at arriving your destination, some 30 odd hours later, is greatly diminished by the realization that unless you are flying back ….you have to do this…all over again to get back home.

And don’t forget the sun…I am still suffering from severe sunburn…although my skin colour has helped hide the effect.