The shit has hit the fan in my neighbourhood.
Gangs of anarchists and protestors are running round Norrebro, turning over cars, lobbing stones and fireworks at the police. The cops tried to stop them coming into my street by blocking both the entrances but loads somehow got in through some side entrances.
I looked back and they were like ants streaming all over the street, erecting barricades, ripping up the street furniture.
It was like a scene out of Escape from New York. Black-clad, many wearing strange little helmets, they were very calm and calculated in the way they went about their business.
I lost Anne and ran back to the flat to put our bikes round the back of the building and came face to face with three hooded chaps.
“Don’t touch the bikes,” I said.
“We won’t,” he replied, in an Eastern European accent, and then all three hopped over the wall into the next street.
The cause of all this is the Ungdomhuset, or youth house.
It has turned into a kind of commune and activity centre for troubled kids but it was recently bought by a Christian group and the Government have ordered that the inhabitants must be removed.
They are very well organised though. Each time they protest, hundreds, maybe thousands of supporters come in to Denmark from throughout Europe.
There were more than 250 arrests the last time.
More as I get it.