Ingrid got put to the test on our way out of Swaziland. Instead of following the suggested directions, as given by our travel agent and google map, Dad decided that the quickest way to our destination was over the mountain – which I think we all know, is never the quickest way.
Up, up and upppppppp went. Hours later, after driving over unpaved, rocky mud roads used solely by logging trucks, we finally passed through Bulembu, an eerily quiet, pitiful mining town on the border with South Africa. At the itty bitty border cross the lonely control guard showed us her crochet work.
It was all so surreal – this random road we picked, the wide eyed stares as we passed in a red, two door Ingrid. Finally at the isolated border, I heard a German man in the other line say, “I’d like to enter Swaziland.” Without any hesitation the border control says, “NO.” (She waits a few seconds until the awkwardness is palpable, then says in a slow easy manner)…. “I’m Kidding!”
With that and the crochet still sitting on the counter, I lost it. I got the giggles and had to walk outside. Funny how months later this memory seems to encompass the whole series of ridiculous moments that had culminated that day.
Anyway, the point is that Ingrid served us well and made it through the mountain challenge out of Swaziland and back into South Africa.