Just the other night in the centre of Durham, I was walking home, lost in my own thoughts. I hadn't realised that a car had slowed down to the pace of my walk. This only became obvious when two of the passengers in the car leant out of the window and shouted to me that I was "a "f****** Paki, f****** tourist" before the driver sped away.

I'm not sure which of the two categories of person my abusers held in lower esteem. For me, however, there was little doubt which caused most offence. Take it from one who knows, being racially abused is a whole lot worse and creates a whole different set of reactions, feelings and emotions than being labelled a tourist.

Before I moved to the North-East two months ago, I was told that I would stand out from the crowd much more in Durham than in Birmingham, where I was born. Yet, I was told not to worry because the people were even friendlier than Brummies and, while the looks of curiosity might increase, the risk of hostility was something I shouldn't be concerned about.

On the whole that advice has turned out to be fairly accurate. It's true that there are far fewer Asian or black faces here and whilst, at first, that made me feel uncomfortable, I soon got used to double takes or straight-on stares.

And then there were the pub conversations where people would strike up friendly chit chat about what brought me to Durham. Usually my answer that I'm training to be a priest has been met with the response of "a priest in what religion?"

Casual racist abuse is something that, until the other night, I haven't experienced for years. Certainly there have been times recently, such as campaigning in elections where the British National Party were fielding a candidate, where the racist abuse has been anything but casual. However, the last time someone purposefully slowed down their car to shout out a racist epithet was back in the 1980s when I was a teenager. My initial reaction to both was identical - startled amazement.

First, I had to check that what I thought had just happened had actually taken place. Then, there is the amazement. Amazement that anyone would slow their car, hang out of the window and abuse a total stranger because they happen not to be white.

On both occasions the startled amazement soon gave way to anger and a sense of approbation over the stupidity of racism, the futility of abuse and the absolute desire to work for a society in which incidents like this remain a thing of the past.

On the off chance that one of the four people in the car is reading this, I'd like to take this opportunity to let you know that whatever you hoped to achieve that night, you have completely failed. I refuse to be humiliated by what you did. I will not give in to the anger or bitterness that it caused. I will not believe that everyone else in this city is like you. I will not stay off the streets, I will not be intimidated and I will not go back to where I came from. What happened the other night was simply a waste of your breath.