In 2005 my wife Sara and I rode our well-laden bicycles, carrying a tent, cooking equipment and all the paraphernalia necessary for a three week cycle tour around Lake Constance, otherwise known as the Bodensee, Europe's third largest lake. Starting our ride in Friedrichshafen in Germany, we circumnavigated the lake and made occasional detours into the hinterland to explore the magnificent countryside and visit places of historic and artistic interest. This was one of many such excursions that we have made by bicycle to various parts of Europe over the years, and we were well versed in navigating the smallest lanes we could find, travelling at a leisurely pace with regular stops for refreshments, sightseeing and locating quiet campsites. During our many trips by bicycle we have met interesting people, enjoyed local cuisine, and gained a host of memorable experiences. But it was one specific occurrence during this journey through the three countries bordering the Bodensee that prompted me to think about the nature of nationhood and our strange relationship with borders and identity.
