I hate being arrested. I go through it because it is an “occupational hazard”, a risk you have to take if you want to change anything. What I hate is the police forcing me to give up my freedoms, of being so dominant and it is not my choice.

There is something about being on an action that gets me aroused. Some of my favourite moments have taken place in fields and forest when our minds have been on other things as well. I'm talking of those spaces when you are lying in a ditch waiting for security or the police care to go by, watching their headlights sweep over the place where you are hiding; of the tension that builds up as you keep one ear on the radio to crackle the signal to start moving.

Way back in a cold winter, I remember the way he lit a fag and went up to block the police horse that was closing in on us. Just stood there, smoking, pretending like the yelling officer wasn't there.