Dear Nessi

It isn't terrorists but protesters who are bringing the city to a halt.

This evening I was on the bus, coming back to the gallery after dropping off a painting at the Mall Galleries (another competition I prolly won't get in). The bus was grinding along as snail's pace near Old Street. I remembered a flyer I'd been given in Parliament Square yesterday. "Civil disobedience, Old Street, 5 PM." I got to the front of the bus, looked out and saw police vans and many, many bright yellow jackets. More police than protesters. And in the middle, a black flag flying high. Anarchists.

I got off the bus, picked up my bike at the Gallery and went back to the roundabout.

Old Street is hardly a hub of government activity. It's only a busy roundabout, the sort of place that isn't going to ever make the news. I guess anarchists chose it cos its close to Hackney, where a lot of them live.

Yesterday - Thursday that is, it already seems longer - I met Conny in Parliament Square. She was in London for the book fair when the war started. I was out dropping paintings off - how boring, pointless - but it was not far from Westminster, so I headed there afterwards.

Police blocked the way westbound, and Conny said it was the same from Trafalgar Square. People on the bus had home made banners and the bus was being diverted. The right to protest was being made difficult. "I was to get to Parliament Square," I said. "You have to find another route," said the cops, not offering one bit of directions.

The square was full of students, maybe 50% young people. Lots of Asians, some with sore feet carrying high-heeled shoes. They all ran in circles, chanting, shouting. A podium was set up for speakers. They almost spoke more about police beating up school kids than about the war. It seemed the cops had been truncheoning the truants. It was great to see so many young people interested in more than video games and Spice Girls.

It was all rather vague, about the war starting. Everyone knew we were meant to walk out of work, occupy town centres, when it started. But Wednesday night was a flutter, not all out assault (which is tonight, it seems). So was that the start? Obviously yes, as there were a lot more people out yesterday than today. Today Churchill and the other statues were boarded up for tomorrow's big demo. I've had emails from more people than went on the last one; if that's any indication, it should be even bigger. Power Pack has cancelled his recording session and said if he freaks out in the crowd, so what.

"Blair OUT! Blair OUT! Blair OUT!" the crowd chanted Thursday, like some medieval mob at the gates of the palace. Only King Tony wasn't listening.

…

And if our Prime minister can't hear us outside his House of Commons, he certainly can't hear anyone at Old Street. Tonight I watched the crowd of police, still surrounding the anarchists. Some wheels could been seen through the cops' legs. A guy told me more bikes were going to start going around soon. I murmured something about not wanting to get arrested. For various reasons it's not in my best interest. In 37 years I have not seen the inside of jail cell. Why start now? (My mom phoned me today, worried cos 36 hours had gone by with no email. She'd seen riots in Korea on the news and thought I'd been arrested - "remember what dad used to say about staying out of jail!" she said. "Mom, I live in London, not Korea. And so far the police have been behaving themselves here. A lot better than in your country. ")

But that might be changing now. As the public objection to war grows, the cops' patience wears thin. They are telling us on the news that now that war has started we will all be 'rallying around our troops.' MY ARSE. If anything it is the opposite.

I joined the 2 dozen cyclists pedalling at walking pace around the roundabout, stopping traffic, pissing off motorists who had already been in a traffic jam for ages. There were still cops surrounding anarchists, lots of police vans and a crowd of spectators, mostly supportive but some dismissive.

We went round and round, I don't know how many times. Some motorcycle cops on the other side of the roundabout were friendly "you guys do this every week," they said to the "critical mass" cyclists who block traffic regularly. "Be careful," they said.

The cops on the other side of the roundabout were more aggressive. They kept trying to make us go other ways. Telling us to keep moving. Car drivers were pissed off. One got out and was going to start a fight with a cyclist. At one point two other girls and me were in a lane when the light turned green. We just stayed there, with a row of cars behind us. If any one of us moved we'd all have to. So we just sat there, blocking traffic.

The problem with anarchists is that no one is in charge. We kept going "round and round in circles like our government" as one cyclist put it. By now it was dark out.

The other anarchists that had been surround by cops were suddenly gone. A girl with flowers on the front of her bike, and a Spanish guy with a mullet (the hairstyle didn't even register until just now when I wrote it down) seemed to be the nearest thing to group leaders. They said we'd head off to Kingsland Road and meet the foot people (those without wheels that is).

Instead we wound up outside a pub. Crusties were drinking cans of lager and smoking hand rolled cigarettes. I was ready to slope off home when someone said, "let's go NOW," and our friendly motorcycle cop escorted us to Kingsland Road. Which way now? I thought I might go home, but as there were only 2 dozen of us I felt I ought to stay….

Further down, Spanish Mullet and Flower Girl seemed to indicate were going to head back to Old Street. Suddenly there was a row of cops. Someone said go left, which was the opposite direction of Old Street. I asked a cop if I could turn around please, as I was ready to go home now. Friendly cops were gone - this was Gestapo time -"NO YOU MUST GO LEFT."

Left was in fact a dark desolate road into warehouse land, the sort of place where rapists and mad dogs leap out at you in nightmares. A 1940s Jack the Ripper zone. I thought if I turned left again I could go back, but every street was blocked by construction. I was on my own now. The other cyclists had disobeyed Gestapo Cops and I'd caught of glimpse of some police running after cyclists and trying to pull them down. Better off in Jack the Ripperland, I thought, and finally breathed a big sigh of relief when street signs appeared in Hindi - I was now on Brick Lane.

It was strange going home alone. When you are 20 bikes you can go out in front of any car easily; now I had to be careful again.

Power Pack was upset when I got home; he'd been watching the news.

Now I must go eat Nessi…. See you later. And congratulations on winning your sculpture competition! We may even see you in the pub before you get this email. It's so very hard but we have to carry on with life. For as long as we can anyway…

Petra

p.s. the streets I called 'Jack the Ripper land', although not all buildings were that old, that was part of the real Jack the Ripper area. In case anyone is wondering..

pps found a report of tonight on indymedia:

1730 London: About 100 people including 30 cyclists are blocking Old Street roundabout, following a call by Disobedience. Another blocking is in Tower Hill.

1800 London: 200 people, the sambaband and a soundsystem now in Old Street. An extra line of police + 6 vans turned up. They pushed people off the road to clear one line for traffic. Police is quite aggressive - 2 people were pushed off a 3 ft wall.

1830 London, Old Street: Police started a fight to confiscate the soundsystem. People are tightly coralled in a kettle, pushed and beaten. Onlookers on the sidelines cheer in support for protesters, outraged by the amount of police violence.

1900 London, Old Street: People are now channelled from the kettle onto the pavement. Police declared the pavement as a legal space for a demonstration. The crowd is dispersing.

(END)

Well, i never saw or heard any sound system..it must have been taken away before i got there...