Yesterday I visited my cousin Camilo in Basel, Switzerland. My only chance to see him at all this first half of the year was that day, since he flies back to Colombia next Wednesday until he can find a PhD program he likes. I was afraid that I might have some trouble crossing the border since Switzerland has not completely removed it border controls, although it has recently agreed to join the Schengen agreement. However, and to my amazement, no one checked anyone on the train ride to Basel. I wasn't even asked to show my train ticket to anyone. The Baden countryside is very mountainous, but the grim day disallowed any memorable sightseeing from my train window. I arrived at Basel's Swiss Hauptbahnhof and met Camilo. We bought some groceries for lunch and took the tram to his girlfriend's apartment, Christine. When we got there, Camilo pointed to a fence a few yards away from the apartment; he couldn't legally go beyond that fence, since France lay at the other side. Camilo has a tourist Swiss visa, which doesn't allow you to enter any other European country (yet). A whole different neighborhood stood behind the fence and there was a white booth (at that moment empty) that ran border controls every now and then to commuting drivers. On the Swiss side, near where Christine works, there is an industrial area where most Frenchmen work. In the morning, they ask for their breakfast in French and later they give and receive orders in German.

I was also greeted with an interesting surprise at Christine's apartment. She offered me orange juice and soon enough she took some oranges from the kitchen to squeeze them. When she cut the first one in half, I saw that the inside were very dark-red-colored, apparently rotten. She ignored the appearance of the sliced fruit and proceeded to squeeze it. When I warned her about the color of the orange, she giggled and replied: "These are blood-oranges!" Blood-oranges are a variety of oranges that are common during the season in Europe, mostly Sicily and Spain. When she handed the first glass of juice to me, I thought it looked just like blackberry juice. However, when I tasted it, it was just like any other orange juice I have had before. I have to admit it was an "interesting" experience to expect a a flavor from watching the color of the drink and getting a totally different one.

After a nice lunch we headed out for downtown Basel. We visited the Munster or cathedral, and climbed up to the tower. The view was amazing, extending from the Rhine valley to the Alps. You could also see several bridges that crossed over the Rhine to communicate the different parts of Basel. The way down made my legs shake a bit since the winding staircase was very steep and allowed a aerial perspective that would send an acrophobic straight to the hospital. Safely back on the ground, we crossed one of the bridges and walked along the riverside, hoping for an empty table at an outdoor cafe but with no luck. The time of my train back to Freiburg approached so we walked back to the Hauptbahnhof. However, my cousin could not come with me to the train because the station was split between the German and Swiss territory. Again, better not take risks four days before returning home.

I have been pondering about the border issue since yesterday. I'm sure Basel is not the only city in the world that sits in the middle of a border between (at least) two countries. For immigration purposes, Basel is divided into the Schengen area and Switzerland, but in terms of national regimes, three states claim its ownership. I can't imagine how unnecessarily hectic life in Basel was before the Schengen agreement. Border controls to commute around the city would make life impossible. I'm sure we can get into a long discussion about the usefulness or even legitimacy of borders as a concept, but I don't mean to bore your brains out. For someone in Camilo's situation, a life with borders makes no sense. Borders limit freedom and the natural flow of human capital (ideas, culture, production factors, etc.). At least for that one-hour ride train to Freiburg, I felt a cozy, emancipating feeling while imagining a border-less world where I wouldn't need to worry about losing my passport.