Every summer, many people transit by sea between France and Algeria, between Marseille and Algiers. Cars loaded to the hood... packages of all kinds... men loaded with bags and stories. At sea, we are no longer in France and not yet in Algeria, and vice versa. From the singular confines of the boat, in the back and forth and the parenthesis of the journey, the crossing puts back in the heart of the passage these women and men brought up.
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See allLaurent Bécue-Renard
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