The world’s weirdest border

Perhaps the world’s most complicated boundary, a narrow bike trail offers a window into a region that has been the battleground of Europe and is where culture and geography intersect.

Nicolai Meyer stepped away from his restaurant’s deep fryer to offer a quick lesson in geography.

“We’re in Belgium,” he explained, then pointed through the window. “The road is Germany. Then it’s Belgium. Then Germany.” The entire area he described spanned perhaps 50m.

I picked up one of his chips, which he assured me was a true Belgium frite, dipped it in mayonnaise and took a bite as I tried to make sense of this patchwork quilt borderland.

What may be the world’s most complicated boundary centres on a narrow ribbon of bike trail. Its history offers a window into a region that at times has been the battleground of Europe and an area where culture and geography intersect.

The cycling route follows an 1899 railroad called the Vennbahn, or Fens Railway, which connects the city of Aachen, Germany, with Luxembourg. Built by Germany’s Prussian State Railway to haul coal, iron and steel, the railway fuelled industrial growth and prospered through World War One, when it was used to carry military supplies.

When hostilities ended, the 1919 Treaty of Versailles awarded Belgium contested German land, along with the railroad and its tracks that connected it. That included a 28km corridor that left several pockets of German land completely cut off from the rest of the country. One section was annexed by Belgium and later returned to Germany in 1958, but five others remain as enclaves – a territory completely surrounded by another territory.

Today, one of the enclaves created by the Vennbahn covers just 1.5 hectares and contains a single farm. Others include small towns or sections of villages, the biggest covering about 1,800 hectares.

In the latter part of the 20th Century, traffic died down on the once-crucial rail line and a preservation group briefly tried to operate a tourist railroad. But in 2013, the former railway found new life when it was dedicated as a 125km paved bike path stretching through Germany, Belgium and Luxembourg. Cyclists now come from across Europe to pedal past medieval towns, nature reserves and misty farm fields dissected by centuries-old hedgerows. They also marvel at the preposterous border they’re weaving in and out of. But the locals rarely pay attention.

Christian Strutz, a banker who lives in Germany, said it doesn’t register that he’s leaving his country when he drops by Meyer’s restaurant, Nicki’s Imbiss, in German-speaking east Belgium. “It’s very normal for us,” he said, then stopped for a moment to think about it. “It’s crazy – crossing the border for frites.”

Indeed, life generally flows smoothly across the international boundaries, thanks largely to the Schengen Treaty, which, when implemented in 1995, eliminated most internal European border controls. In one area, a German bus stops on a Belgian street to pick up passengers. In another, a postman must pass through Belgium every day to reach a German subdivision of small homes, and to pick up parcels left in a canary-yellow Deutsche Post mailbox.

BBC