Holding pattern | Immigrants in Spanish enclave turn to fútbol

[The driver takes] us to see the border. He takes us past the impenetrable-looking forest where the largest camp was, before the rush on the wall and before the police slashed the tents, burnt the blankets, bullied the immigrants, confiscated all the mobiles. A thousand people lived here in what was pretty much a township with its own restaurant, law system and 4pm daily football matches in its own “stadium”. Now it’s a wreck of rubbish, but still the only shelter for a couple of hundred people who spend their day avoiding the security patrols, in the cold crags of a nearby mountain they’ve named Tranquilos (Peace), only descending at night.

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