Once there were borders

I’ve been to Europe several times since the formation and expansion of the EU and each time the scene at international borders in Europe fascinates me. As we worry in Canada about increasing border security rules and requirements when crossing back and forth to the USA, the Europeans evidently enjoy fewer and fewer border restrictions at all.

This past weekend we crossed the French-Spanish border from St. Jean de Luz, France en route 30km up the road to San Sebastian, Spain. (In Victoria terms, this is our distance from the city to the ferry.) There were no border control posts or guards, no line ups – indeed, no indication whatsoever that we were crossing or had crossed an international border. An EU blue-starred circle might have indicated our arrival in Spain - but for the fact that the word “Espania” had been blacked out (this is the heart of Basque country after all!). The first clue was the language on billboards. On the road back to France, a building that might have once been a customs post has now been rented out to a motorcycle dealership.

While the border was for all intents and purposes invisible, the differences between France and Spain became quickly apparent in the stunning seaside city of San Sebastian. Dinner starts at 9:30 – roughly 2 hours later than the other side of the border. The great Spanish contribution to international cuisine – tapas – tides folks over to dinner with a fantastic array of noshes and temptations. We visited the Basque town of Zarautz just west of San Sebastian (where we are scouting a residence for a month or two in the spring). We found the town to be in full flight – some festival or celebration that we couldn’t decipher (if you don’t read Spanish, try not being able to read Basque – a unique language whose origins are unknown and whose similarities to other languages are undetectable). We were told that one of the highlights of the festivities would be a free concert by a notable Basque rock band starting “after dinner” at 11:30! On Saturday night, the town was heaving – showing a distinct and delightful lack of reserve such as one might expect way on over in St. Jean de Luz.

In Spian, balconies are draped with laundry where they would be decked with flowers in France. And, all of a sudden, people exercising – jogging, playing hand ball and tennis - and even sweating something that certainly seems to be neither desirable nor tolerated in France.

The freedom at borders is one of many, many European advantages. Now if they can only figure out how to install decent elevators in their hotels.