A day in the life of Occupy London protestors

Wednesday, October 26

5:45am: I wake early. It’s still dark outside, but I can see it’s drizzling. Hopefully, the weather will be better in London. I meet protestors Purdie, 43, and Kirsty, 24, at their house in Northallerton and, after a coffee and a chat, we set off for the capital in their battered camper van.

Unlike many of the protestors, who are venting their anger at inequalities and the banking system, Purdie is more concerned about corruption and restrictions on personal freedom. As we bowl down the A1, I learn from Twitter that police in the US have forcefully evicted similar protests in several cities, including Oakland and Atlanta, using tear gas and rubber bullets.

To Purdie, this is confirmation that he is doing the right thing: “I feel like I have to make a stand for me and my kids.” Gripping the steering wheel tightly, he says: “If I don’t do something, and other people don’t join this movement, the world is f*****.”

8.50am: Britain has seen protests before. The most famous – the women’s peace camp at Greenham Common – lasted 18 years, but there’s something different about Occupy London. Perhaps it’s that disillusionment and anger are now so widespread that the movement has become a broad church.

Fellow traveller Matthew Horne is about as far from the image of a Greenham Common peace campaigner as it is possible to get.

He’s a former soldier – a veteran of the war in Iraq – and is taking part to protest against the Government and the media. He joined the Army to see the world and didn’t like what he found.

“When I was in Iraq, we bombed a building that posed a threat to us, filled with people that wanted to fight us,” he explains. “Yet the BBC said we bombed and killed civilians.The guns were taken away from the soldiers before the BBC filmed what happened. The BBC didn’t even ask us why we bombed it.”

3.15pm: We arrive in London, and I am given a tent in Finsbury Square by “Paul” who is a member of the housing team at Finsbury Square, down the road from St Paul’s. The square is being used as a second camp as there is no more room outside the cathedral.

There are about 50 tents. The protestors are well organised. Among the canvas tents there is a kitchen, an information centre, a press office and a collection centre receiving donations from sympathetic passers-by.

5pm: I stop to take in what is going on outside St Paul’s and marvel at the protest that has made headlines around the world and threatens to tear the Church of England apart.

There are about 100 tents pitched on the damp concrete and, just like Finsbury Square, there are several amenity tents. A choir of 30 people start singing in one corner of the square as a group dance across the steps of the Cathedral, accompanied by music played by a group of jazz musicians. I talk to a part-time vicar who is also a banker, and a man who has contributed to The Occupied Times, a newspaper started by some of the protestors.

We get something to eat before heading back to Finsbury Square.

7pm: A general assembly is taking place, the second of the day, and a crowd of occupiers are in a circle in the middle of camp. They use hand signals to communicate with each other. Paul, from the housing team explains: “It’s from an anarchist tradition. By waving both hands in the air it means you are in agreement with the people talking, by raising your finger it means you have a point, and by making a V sign it means ‘veto’ and you have an absolutely vital point you have to say right then and there.”

9pm: Word spreads of plans for “direct action” in the banking district. We catch up with protestors outside the Bank of England and head for a club in the banking district.

The mood seems relaxed. Everyone is polite apart from the drunk who staggers out of the club and shouts “Bloody benefit scroungers”.

Twenty minutes later, the doors to the club close and the protestors are asked to move on.

Thursday October 27

7.30am: I am woken by a protestor asking everyone if we want another “direct action” mission – to join a march around Canary Wharf.

9am: In front of the Canary Wharf tower, about 40 protestors sit and listen as two economists give talks on what they think is wrong with the banking system. It’s all very civilised. Although the economists have very different views, they agree that the banking system should be regulated. Bankers stop to listen and a media crew from Reuters films what is happening.

We are surrounded by police officers who take video footage of what is going on and our faces. Technically, we are not in a private area. The square mile of the financial district was privatised many years ago.

After listening to the economists talk for an hour we head back to camp. Me, Kirsty, and Purdie say our goodbyes and leave at 12pm. Matthew the soldier stays, he is “in it till the end”, he says.

Having spent 24 hours living, eating, talking and listening to the protestors, I admire their fighting spirit. They are organised, intelligent, inspired, and determined. Part-time or full-time, these protestors are in it for the long haul.