He was recalling the huge map of the Hunting Ground that hung in the lobby of the London Museum, and the great sweep of marsh-country that stretched all the way from the central mountains to the shores of the Sea of Khazak, mile after mile of reedbeds and thin blue creeks and all of it marked, Unsuitable for Town or City.
This mega-sentence feels as though it should have been broken up into smaller sentences. It was kinda clunky.
