AS I walked among the protesters to find the front line it was a bit like walking up to a football match.
But, unfortunately, as soon as some saw the police they regarded them as the opposition.
The atmosphere became hostile, with scores of men in designer trainers and sportswear pulling their hoods up and putting on face masks or balaclavas.
What occurred for the next hour was utterly horrific.
The level of violence the police faced was disgusting and life threatening.
Officers tried to push them back using batons but were hopelessly outnumbered.
A female officer wearing just a stab vest became isolated and was dragged around by men who delighted in tormenting her.
A male colleague bravely managed to drag her back to safety but not without taking a hit to the face, which no doubt left him among the more than 50 officers injured.
Eventually, the police got the upper hand.
They then acted professionally as they tended a rioter left unconscious when a brick thrown by one of his pals hit him in the head.
His thug mates sat with him — and the police.
I wonder whether they thanked the officers they had spent an hour trying to hurt.