On Saturday the 4th Nov 2006 I went to the climate protests in London. I travelled up on the megabus (much better than the rumours allude) and arrived early, which pleased me greatly because I was dreading the walk from Victoria through the tangle of unfamiliar citylife. My printed GoogleMap directions proved awful, but luckily a charming lady in Victoria library had hand-out, fold-out street maps detailing the location of the London Library network (what, there aren’t tunnels connecting them?) This map saved me from resorting to further pubic transport. It also allowed my arrivals to be early for the rest of the day, which allowed me to spend lunch in Russel Park (nr Camden), and an hour or so wandering through the (freaking magnificent) British Museumm, before joining the other protestors for the ‘student’ protest.

The street had more police in it than protestors when I arrived, and for a while I loitered, despairing that perhaps the whole event would damp squib. Before long, though, the numbers had risen and a small crowd of banner-bearers appeared with a look of vast intent. There were beards and whistles and more old people than I’d presumed. After more loitering and flyering of my Ecotricity leaflets (some had already signed up!) I was herded into a corner by some strange-eyed youths who insisted I sign-up for some leftist party or leave with my views shredded (I’m actually quite pro nuclear power you see). Anyway, the numbers rose and rose and I begun to wonder who would organise this horde of empassioned laymen. In the end an ‘artist’ (rumours abound; he might not have been) with a mega-phone arrived, and made sure we were all gathered with his huge sun, cloud and temperature-symbol banners aloft. (I got to hold a tether for a giant sun — and felt like a Blue Peter presenter) After much whistle blowing, inspired salsa drumming, and foot-tapping, the procession finally began to move. Spirits, which had been flagging in the cold and grey, broke free and hollered and chanted and begged for ears and understanding. There were a lot of us. Two lads on stilts wearing wolf masks ran (yes really) amongst us. They roared. The police looked like they’d seen all this before last week. Perhaps they had. Cameras rolled and voices called for onlookers to ‘join us, join us’.

Eventually we reached trafalgar square. Our entire parade, which I’d thought invincible, was broken and dispersed by its own kind. Without the force of numbers and the passion of the united ideal, a lot of us, myself included, became disorientated by the sheer disorganised chaos of 20 — 30,000 people with banners trying to ge their thoughts heard whilst listening to far-off speeches (“we’re here to save the planet”. 3 claps.) from various celebreties and other known persons of dubious credibility and stature. I wanted the clear-eyed conviction of a Richard Dawkins-type lecturer. I also wanted a coffee and promptly found myself one. I didn’t even ask if it was fair trade. On the way back with my coffee I was grabbed and asked questions by a camera man for TV. I gave a good, informed answer, but screwed up the second one, so they let me go. Never very good on my feet. Especially when pressed.

Fortunately my sense of disorientation was helped by our having a minor university reunion in the crowds, like being on a raft on choppy seas. The reunion drew people I’d known from various years of uni at different times together in a pressed huddle. Some of them were there for the reunion and not the cause, but they were ok about it. It was odd, considering the event, but happy. We talked of bikes and ignorance and giant flowers, and then I had to rush off to catch my return. My mission was accomplished, my face and presence felt. I walked back to the Megabus terminal talking to a friend about many things, cabbages and kings.

On the bus my exhaustion arrived and so I fell into a dirty, dusty slumber, whilst two girls from Bournemouth played gameboy advance and did homework noisily.

My protest gave me these insights:

- you don’t have to tip or burn cars to make yourself heard.
– protestors are friendly but often quite closed-minded.
– it’s easy to join a protest; you don’t even have to make your own banners.
– the megabus is very useful, and it DOES have a loo onboard.
– I’d do it again.