more of the same...

When the phalanx of riot-police (which you can see in the Upr. O'Connell pictures advancing towards my location) eventually got to me they called for me to "Get the fuck down" from my vantage point atop the priest's statue - that's how I got the elevation you can see in the pics:) - I thought about it for an instant and decided to accede to their wishes.
When I climbed down, they kindly requested I "Get the fuck out of here." In order to do this I would have to leave the cover of the statue and run the gauntlet of raining missiles that protesters were hurling at police; rocks, bottles, bars and the odd barracade flew past me, huddling for cover, I considered my situation.
I shouted over the chaotic noise, "No way I'm going out there."
I couldn't see the riot police's faces since they were covered with black balaclavas. They stood behind a wall of interlocking clear perspex shields and brandished their night-sticks (so called, I realised, because if you get hit by one, it's night-night). I heard men roar at me, "Get the fuck out of here. Now."
I glanced towards the crowd, as a bottle smashed against the perspex wall; then back at the police, and said, "I can't. It's dangerous out there." (Since then I have been reminded of the Monty Python sketch where a christian pleads, as he's tossed into the lions den, "I can't; it's dangerous out there."
The perspex wall magically parted and a dangerously heavy night-stick jabbed me in the guts, then in the ribs - it left me with bruises - but I was high on adrenaline, I didn't feel anything but a vague hysteria; and an urge to laugh.
I stood cowering behind the priest's statue until the perspex wall parted again and the black clad ninja behind it took a swipe for my head. He hit the dust where my suddenly subversive sun-hat used to be.
I legged it. Stopped in the crowd and caught my breath - snapping pictures the whole time.