| |
|
Just got back, here's a quick rundown.
Got there very late and couldn't find any hippies anywhere. I was indeed surrounded by thousands and thousands of farmers. Never seen so much tweed in my life. It wasn't so much bravery as being able to fit in I think which made it bearable - though not sporting tweeds, I don't look punky enough to arouse suspicion. Anyways, after walking for ages and ages I found a handful of anti-hunt people and stayed with them. We lined up on the pavement and the marchers were in the road. The cops stood in between. Some of us were giving the marchers verbal, but no physical stuff whatsoever. Some of the marchers, on the other hand, were spikey as fuck, and I gotta say, there were times when I was bloody glad there was a line of coppers keeping them from us. The thing about 'us' as in the leftie hippies is we're skinny as fuck. These guys were big fuckers, and they'd lunge in at us and although they'd always get held back by the cops, they weren't pissing about. The abuse which stung most was 'how come there's only five of you?' There were a few more of us than that, but it looks like they outnumbered us 30,000 to 20 and so I feel a bit defeated at the moment. I can only hope there was more leftie-oid stuff going on that I couldn't see.
I know normal honest working class people as well as fox-killing idle rich scum are represented by the CA but all I could see were posh as fuck posh fuckers, and seriously psychobilly rednecks. Banners like My Hounds Aren't Seeking Asylum So Why Are They Illegal? and New Labour = Political Correctness and stuff like that. Anyway I left when a marcher stopped marching and decided to bend our ears about how he felt that his presence on the march was not incompatible with his being a born-again-Christian. Quite the opposite, in fact, as he proceeded to explain at some length. There's only so much a boy can take.
P.S. Oh, worth mentioning that someone threw a potato at us at some point during the afternoon. That's worth saying partly because it's funny (bad tempered farmers pelting city folk with 'taters, Christ, you couldn't make it up!) but also because it's the first time in my life a vegetable has ever been used against me as a weapon. It's a splendidly surreal feeling, coming under attack from a vegetable, and I'd recommend it to anyone. |
|
|
