︎



After Burmerange the bus comes down through wooded hills and arrives by the Moselle under grey skies. Schengen doesn’t have a train station. This is awkward for a project that sought, at first, to see the railways as Europe’s skeleton, a working metaphor for any unity, or common identity, that may or may not exist, or be found. At Perl though, just over the river in Germany, there is a station. A Deutsche Bahn train leaves the platform for somewhere as I arrive. I look around the delapidated station building and cross the tracks to take a photograph when a station attendant appears from nowhere and begins shouting at me. The police are on their way apparently. I head back over the bridge to Luxembourg.


Schengen is famous now, for the agreement that facilitates the freedom of movement, of people and goods, unencumbered by the borders of its member states. I have come here to visit this place, its status in the world turbo charged in the wake of this piece of legislation. There is a museum here now celebrating the signing of the agreement and the EU in general. It is mind numbingly dull. But it is the boat, The Princesse Marie Astrid, on which the signing ceremony took place on the 14th June 1985, the day before my eleventh birthday, that brings me here. The boat interests me. But it isn’t here after all.







Schengen, Luxembourg. 2017 







︎       ︎