I heard from Iranian communists, Iraqis, Kurds, Palestinians, French, as well as folks from all over Britain. I talked to Trade Unionists, anti-fur demonstrators, cyclists, Wombles, pagans and poets. I met passionate, creative, inspiring people who were out not simply to protest but to affirm common bonds and share dreams in the sunshine of the first day of summer. Yes, we ambled around in circles for a while as the police pincered our groups and split us up. I disagree with those who thought we were a shambles, that we’d lost focus. It was neither a March, nor a Demonstration. It wasn’t the destination that mattered so much. It was the fact that for a few hours it was possible simply to Be in London, to enjoy fume-free streets and have fun without playing the shopping game.

Perhaps wisened-up by the 100-odd cases against them for illegal detention arising from last year, the cops weren’t too intimidating, nor did they try and box us in. They concentrated on splitting us up and blocking off streets, and to believe that the circling, strolling splinter groups that played this cat-and-mouse with them had lost strength and focus would be to allow them victory. The secret in this situation is to keep it random, keep moving, keep enjoying the space. The minute you start worrying about Getting Somewhere the joy goes out of the group and things get agitated.

Later on, I heard there was Trouble around Soho. Funny that – I think the people in the march there were the same people who had been around all day in peaceful groups. What had changed? Police tactics – riot gear and boxing crowds into small spaces. If the cops don’t know enough basic psychology to understand that this can only end up in tears they’re dafter than I thought. If they do know, then we need to keep hitting back with lawsuits for illegal detention till they give it up.