One of the big themes throughout this trip and blog has been freedom. The whole point of this was making the most of our right to Freedom of Movement. That right is everyone's in the EU and it has shaped the physical continent in interesting ways. Every we time cross a border we remark on how unremarkable it is. You have to be quite eagle-eyed to even spot the borders most of the time.
The crossing from Belgium to the Netherlands was my favourite. The road widens where the border crossing used to be, you can imagine the customs booths and the barriers which used to span the tarmac and halt you on your way from place to place. Now though there are a couple of petrol stations instead. It's perfect; "there used to be a pointless thing here," it seems to say, "a vestigial appendage from a bygone age. It was no use to anybody so we tore it down and put in somewhere for you to refuel, just to make your life that bit easier."
There are those who might say "but what of sovereignty, identity?" Well, I can't speak for the people here but they seem to have a strong sense of identity to me. I've spoken a lot here about architecture and that identity is very much reflected in the physical spaces of the people here; their homes and places of work. Even just roads, fields, geographical features. You may not see the borders but once you're a few miles into a country you know about it. There's something indescribably German about Germany. The Netherlands are the most Dutch places you've ever seen. Even when you escape the shadow of the Eiffel Tower, Paris is unmistakeable (though it can look like New York in places, I'll admit).
And today we are in Berlin, former home of one of the hardest and most famous borders of the modern era. We crossed that line a few times on our travels today and this was one we noticed immediately. It was torn down as well, of course, but it has been commemorated, lest we forget the folly and cruelty of building walls between peoples, whether literal or figurative.
You don't know what you've got 'til it's gone (well, going) is another theme I've addressed before and it's pertinent again. We are about to lose the EU, to some this is an acceptable loss - to some that loss is a victory, a boon to mankind. Fair enough, each to his own, I suppose. To me however... the more I get to know what I'm losing, the less willing I am to give it up. I'll get no greater sense of identity by being outside the EU, I'll lose a newly discovered part of my identity. I'll still be European in a geographical and ethnic sense but neither of those have any significance for me. I'll get no further sovereignty, in fact I'll lose the protections the EU currently gives me - from having all of my laws set by corporations whose financial might makes them stronger at the negotiating table than many individual nations. How am I and my fellow countrymen made more powerful by that?
Anyway, this in serious danger of becoming another Brexit rant and I'm sure you've all had enough of that, especially my facebook friends and readers of other blogs so I'll move on.
What I understand more by their absence in my life are those borders; they're briefly gone from my life and what I know now is that they're nothing but arbitrary lines on a map. They are given so much significance by so many and it baffles me. I've got two more countries to see on this trip and I'm going to cherish crossing the borders: I'm going to revel in the fact that I won't know exactly where the lawyers and the warlords drew the lines by which they sought to control the lives of millions. I celebrate their insignificance as a triumph of the common man. As much as the peoples of Europe have their strong identities, the plain fact is that we are all human and which side of the imaginary lines you were born on doesn't actually matter.
Until next time, dear reader, Auf Wiedersehen.
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