Per la libertà di movimento, per i diritti di cittadinanza
“La frontière tue” ( “Il confine uccide”) in una galleria

«Illegally crossing» the French-Italian border

How migrants are living in Ventimiglia

by Rachel Dubale 1

What does it mean to cross the border between two countries of the European Union? What separates those kilometers between the Italian town of Ventimiglia and its French neighbor, Menton? The service experience I had with migrants in the last week of August in Ventimiglia allowed me to answer these questions. Working closely with Caritas and other local organizations, I concluded that for French citizens who go to the Ventimiglia market on Friday mornings, crossing the border means remembering their shopping list of food, drinks, and tobacco. In the worst case, one can add to that list a good dose of patience to deal with queues and traffic jams when entering the city. On the other hand, for thousands of migrants who arrive in Ventimiglia every year, crossing the border is a daily challenge that goes unnoticed  by most. This article stems from my desire to write about the stories of migrants that I have come across on my journey, as well as the direct testimonies of those who are daily engaged in welcoming them.


There was a time when the management of migration flows in Ventimiglia gained prominence in international debates. It was to such an extent  that the city earned itself the title of “the other Lampedusa”. In 2015, the French, affected by the Paris attacks, resorted to militarisation of the Hexagon. At the French-Italian border, this resulted in systematic checks, through racial profiling, by the border police against migrants arriving from Italy. In South-East France during the summer of 2015, migrants and activists reacted to the border blockade by staging a series of protests along the city’s cliffs. However, no favourable change was achieved. What appeared to be a temporary measure became ‘customary’ over time and was in  complete violation of the Schengen agreements 2.

Scritta sul muro di una casa abbandonata, lungo il sentiero di montagna da Ventimiglia a Mentone

Since then, migrants remain stranded in Ventimiglia and attempt to cross the border illegally. The routes are various: some try to cross by train, some by foot, some by paying passeurs, and others by walking on the highway. Usually, the biggest turnout is on Fridays – market day – as the crowds of French people visiting the border town increase their chances of crossing unnoticed.

“People treat migration as a transitory problem” says an Italian Red Cross worker in Ventimiglia, “when the problem is structural. Since 2015, Ventimiglia continues to be a focal point for migrants willing to go to France”. Fleeing armed conflicts, authoritarian regimes or even environmental factors, to name a few, migrants abandon their dream of growing up in their own country and seek fortune and stability in Europe. However, Italy is hardly the goal: they dream of reaching France, often trying to join their family members, or continue their journey to Northern Europe.

This phenomenon is countered by a massive response from the French gendarmerie, with  the deployment of surveillance patrols in the Menton-Garavan station, and in some cases Cap d’Ail during the Friday market, or the use of helicopters and drones to locate fugitives on the trail. At the same time, Italian police support their measures and honour bilateral agreements on cross-border cooperation.

On the border, the game of cops and robbers materializes. The playing field seems to favour the former, due to the absence of any sort of  legal framework. Beyond the Alps, once tracked down, refusés d’entrée 3 spend hours and even nights on the floor of modular buildings waiting to be brought back to Italy. According to some witnesses, border police remove migrants’ shoelaces to avoid suicide on their conscience. They also reject unaccompanied minors, in defiance of the country’s obligation to take charge per Dublin Regulation 604/2013. European and international regulations are replaced by arbitrary decisions, the emblem being border police decreeing a hint of a beard on a minor’s face as a clear sign of ‘adulthood’.

Foto della frontiera franco-italiana

Ventimiglia today: on the other side of the border

Stuck in Italy, nowadays thousands of people try their luck at reaching the promised land. Meanwhile, the shore of the Roja river is their bed and cardboard boxes their pillows. All around, a trail of rubbish and rubble. From time to time, one can hear wild boars grunting and rumour has it that a migrant slept down there for so long that he managed to tame one and make it his faithful dog. As much as it sounds like a far-fetched description of a ruined country landscape, this is happening in Ventimiglia, just a short walk from the city center.

Closed permanently in 2020, the Red Cross First Reception Centre is now a memory. The same goes for the Bar Hobbit, which was for years a refuge for anyone who wanted shelter from the cold, closed the following year. The Islamic cultural centre, ‘Brotherhood of Ventimiglia’ and its toilets for rinsing remain, though for how long? it is worth wondering.   Except for a few Caritas flats for families in transit, the city is not structurally equipped to receive migrants. On Friday, at dawn, I met an Eritrean couple and their three children, two of whom were born in Italy, lying on a threadbare mattress. They were waiting for Caritas to open and give their children some milk. In the end, France does not want them, but Italy is no different . Thus, the migrants in Ventimiglia rely on the few remaining aid organisations in the city and the network of volunteers created.

In the mornings from 9:00 to 11:00 a.m., people crowd in front of the doors of Caritas to eat breakfast, lunch, and get medication. Some turn to the social workers at the facility. Next door, the Save The Children tent offers assistance to families and minors. On Monday, at the entrance to Caritas, I register around 90 people, mostly from Sudan and Eritrea, “but the number is variable” the employees explain, “in July we registered twice as many people”.

At dusk, around 7 p.m., the meeting point moves to the square in Roverino, facing the cemetery. French NGOs and Italian activists, aided in the summer by passing missionaries and scouts, synergically take turns preparing food and serving a hundred or so migrants. Each one of them works to fill systemic and administrative gaps, poised by those who see the migration phenomenon as temporary and see no point in investing in adequate housing and sanitation. As such, the borders remain, just like the migrants in Italy, but reviewing the management and reception practices of migrants on the ground seems without question.

In Roverino’s square, in between volleyball matches, some migrants find time to speak with you. An Eritrean boy explains that he does not want to stay here: “My brother and my mother have been living in France for seven years, and I want to join them”. He has been here for three weeks and has already tried to cross the border by train three times. Next week he will try again, this time on foot. This bottleneck called the border does not intimidate them. After all, most of them have overcome far worse, including the desert and the Libyan detention camps. “Italy?” replies Ermiyas, a 21-year-old Ethiopian, when I ask him what he thinks of the Bel Paese “Arif new (transl. let. It’s great). What have I got to complain about? In this country, cars stop when I have to walk across the zebra crossing!”. 

And so, little do we care about giving better living conditions to people who are content enough with not getting run over in the street.


  1. an Italian student of Ethiopian roots currently enrolled in a Research Master in African Studies at Leiden University, the Netherlands
  2. Article 23(1) of the Schengen Borders Code allows for border control by a Member State at its internal borders “for a limited period of no more than 30 days or for the foreseeable duration of the serious threat if its duration exceeds the period of 30 days, in accordance with the procedure laid down in Article 24 or, in urgent cases, with that laid down in Article 25
  3. From the ‘refus d’entrée‘, a document given by the French border police to migrants during refoulement