“You’re writing lies,” the middle aged woman with a Union Jack flag around her shoulders shouts at me as I scribble down her words. “Look at her, she’s writing lies!”
Her tall, blonde friend starts filming me, while a third woman in a patterned blouse starts jabbing her finger, demanding I delete the photos I have taken of her. I haven’t taken any. They look to the police officers that have formed a barricade between the meagre gang of anti-migrant protesters holding St George flags and chanting “save our kids”, and the 500-strong anti-fascist protest that has occupied a cobbled street on Bristol’s waterfront to protect a hotel housing asylum-seeking people.
“You are for them,” she shouts, pointing at me. “And we’re against them. You need to go.”
