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To Mohammad Reza Khodadadi, the tentlike structure hidden among thorn trees on the edge of Calais' beach is a haven — though, he hopes, a temporary one. Squatting on a weathered crate under plastic sheeting, he says: "Welcome. This is my home." If the British government has its way, the young Afghan's home will remain right here — on a patch of scrubland overlooking the English Channel. But Khodadadi has his heart set 34 km across the water in England, where, he says, his brother works in a Birmingham coffee shop and has vowed to find him a job. That his entry and his job will almost certainly be illegal doesn't matter much to him. Lean and athletic, the 23-year-old says he has spent six weeks looking for a truck with a shipping container he can pry open and hide in during the ferry crossing to Dover. Though police dogs sniff vehicles and drivers seem vigilant in locking the containers, he says he'll keep trying until he succeeds.

More than four years have passed since British and French officials vowed to prevent illegal immigrants, hailing largely from Afghanistan, Pakistan and Iran, from sneaking into England from Calais. In late 2002, Nicolas Sarkozy, then France's Interior Minister, ordered shut a Red Cross refugee center in the Calais suburb of Sangatte after British officials complained that thousands were using it as a base to organize crossings to England by jumping on trucks or walking through the Eurotunnel. Sarkozy, whose tough stance against illegal immigration helped build his career and win him the French presidency, claimed that Calais would soon be empty of would-be immigrants. Relief groups decried the move as inhumane and said Sarkozy's initiative would not deter desperate people.

In their own way, both sides have proven correct. True to Sarkozy's prediction, only about 1,500 people sneaked into England from Calais last year, compared with more than 10,000 in 2002. Many would-be refugees are now trying to cross from other Channel ports like Dunkirk and Cherbourg.

But in Calais, Khodadadi's tale is still not rare. Hundreds of illegal immigrants stay here for weeks or even months, sleeping outdoors through summer rainstorms and winter cold, until they succeed or give up and head elsewhere. Khodadadi's shelter is one of dozens hidden amid the dunes strewn with cigarette boxes, old shoes, stale food and human waste. Others camp in the city, cooking on open fires and bedding down under bridges. In a report last November, the French aid organization Médecins du Monde said illnesses in Calais were widespread and sanitation extremely poor. Yet like Khodadadi, many see Calais as an essential stop in their quest to reach Britain, unquestionably their preferred destination, thanks to the country's ample supply of illegal jobs, relatively liberal immigration laws, large ethnic communities and its use of English, which many of them already speak.

After years of witnessing this misery, Calais officials voted last month to reopen a refugee center in September near the city's ferry dock. Immigrants will receive hot meals and showers there, but, unlike the shuttered shelter in Sangatte, no one will be allowed to sleep in the building. The plan has outraged some politicians in Britain, where, as in Sarkozy's campaign, immigration is a hot issue. Conservative Party immigration spokesman Damian Green has said he fears a fresh stampede of illegal immigrants from a new Calais center. The Calais mayor's spokesman Bernard Barron counters that his city has no choice. "Calais has been abandoned by Europe, by France, by Britain," he says. "We are alone." The same cannot be said of Khodadadi, one of just hundreds camped along the coast, eyeing their dream destination across the Channel.

• VIVIENNE WALT
• The Sangatte refugee camp on the French coast closed four years ago, but hundreds of migrants remain, determined to seek asylum across the English Channel