We drove to Archer's Post, the last safe place on our route and also the end of the tarmac road.  To say that the next five hours of the journey was backbreaking, whiplash inducing and teeth shattering would be an understatement!  It really was a very uncomfortable ride with the car constantly skidding and sliding on the loose surface. 

At every bridge, we crossed the barriers which were bent and broken where other vehicles had lost control and gone over into the rivers and ditches below.  We had been told not to stop on this stretch of unsealed road for anything until we reached our destination, Marsbit, as people are routinely robbed and killed here, and so, when a couple of hours into the bone-crushing ride Tim simply insisted that we stop for him to pee, I wasn't very happy.

We left the engine running and Tim finished his business with swift rapidity and apart from camels and dik diks (tiny deer like animals smaller than our furry friends at home, Betty and Audrey!)  Thankfully, nothing and no-one sinister came out of the bush land.  At about two in the afternoon we finally reached our destination and Fatuma was there to meet us in town.  Fatuma was our first peace worker to be filmed for the doco, a truly remarkable woman who was responsible for organising the football tournament we were there to film.  Marsabit is a small place strewn with mangy looking goats and scruffy huge black crows.  We checked into "Marsbit Lodge" after a few problems at the entrance gate of the National Park where the lodge was situated (basically they wanted to charge us a fortune every time we entered the park to get to our room???)  Ripped off!

The lodge was awful, rundown, absolutely filthy and yet incredibly expensive.  We dumped our bags in the room and I tried not to examine the black sludge in the bathroom too closely and then it was time to head off and start shooting our first real story (as exhausted as we were the rooms were so uninviting it was a relief to know we would be out soon).

We were going to film the semi-finals of the football tournament with Fatuma and the boys who would be playing, they were all gathered in town waiting for us when we arrived.  There was a big truck with three goats inside and all the boys jumped onto the roof of the truck.  Tim got into the truck with the goats and I followed in the 4x4.  We set off for the village where the match was to be held.  The boys were in high spirits and sang songs.  It was quite a scene to behold as the truck bumped along the red dust road with them laughing and clinging to the roof.  It was an even more amazing sight when you consider that they are all different tribes that would never usually mix and if they ever did some into contact with each other it would almost certainly result in death.  As we trundled along the dirt road I had to do a double-take as I saw Tim climbing onto the roof of the truck whilst it was speeding along this crazy road.  Totally mad and terribly dangerous as not only was the truck moving, but Tim was holding the camera as well.  

As he was focussed on the filming whilst on top of the roof, he didn't see the trees up ahead.  I started honking the horn in a desperate attempt to alert him but with the singing and the noise of the two vehicles he didn't hear it and it was too late by then as he sped towards them unaware.  The trees caught him by the neck and almost ripped the camera from his hand.  Something fell but there was too much dust in the air from the truck ahead for me to see when it was.  I got out of the car but the truck kept driving.  There on the floor was the foam cover from the camera mic.  I hoped that when the dust did settle I could clearly MI Wise still on the truck checking his camera for damage and totally oblivious to me grinning in the dirt in an ever growing distance.

We arrived at the school where the match was to be held and I soon became a hit with the boys when they found out I was an Arsenal supporter; we had found our common voice, the international language of football.  As we talked about tactics and Thierry Henry, I really started to comprehend the ability of ‘The Beautiful Game' to bring people together as one, even here in the absolute middle of nowhere in a poverty stricken dangerous part of Africa.

The match began and all was well until it got to penalties and then it got too dark to be able to continue to pay and so it was time to call it a day and postpone the game ‘til tomorrow.  Two of Tim's travel companions (the goats) had been slaughtered for the boys' dinner and they began to set up camp for the night.  This was extremely dangerous for the boys and Fatum, and with only one guard to protect them there was a real possibility that they could be attacked and killed in the night.  Even though the school is considered neutral territory there was only a thin wire fence dividing them from rival tribes on both sides of the camp.  Tim, Arthur and myself headed back to the lodge, which after an exhausting fifteen-hour day in blazing heat looked a little more appealing than it had earlier in the day!  Unfortunately due to some miscommunication they had not provided dinner for us even though we hadn't eaten since 6:00am that morning (it was now 10:00pm at night) we were so tired that none of us cared.  The end of our first day shooting and all went well and thankfully we had arrived safely in far northern Kenya.

Tomorrow will be a big day...