As we entered the kingdom of Swaziland, I was reminded of crossing other third world borders. You walk to a little hut that has the word "immigration" written on it, wait in a line, get your passport stamped, and then spend several minutes not legally anywhere while walking the dirt path to a horizontal pipe barrier. Next to that is another hut with nothing at all written on it where you wait in line, get your passport stamped and you find yourself past the barrier and offically tansferred.
Swaziland is a rare little piece of real estate. It can be crossed in a matter of hours, is one of the poorest of countries, but is also autonomous, surrounded as it is by counties that lost the war to the Boers, the Zulus and the British. It is the only absolute monarchy in Africa and the king is well thought of here despite some less than stirling behaviour.
Sugar cane is the predominant industry, and there are sugar mills belching smoke here and there. There are also some pineapples, some pine forests and a rare few cattle. The rest of the landscape is comprosed of green fields and bushland.
Although on holiday in South Africa, here we see students in their uniforms walking to or from school, many in bare feet. I suspect many walk for miles to get to school as well.
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| woven hat and cloth a reminder of our flying visit |
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