Every inch of me hurts, but it is worth it. I have an excruciatingly painful disability for which I claim no benefits. I don't even have a blue badge.

But I walked the entire shortened route, for those people who could not be there. Every step like walking on sharp shingle in my sock feet. My hips seizing up, my hands and wrists screaming from trying to take the weight off my feet by leaning on the walker. But I did it.

Throat is quite sore too from hollering, cheering, booing, and coughing. It was inspiring day and I saw no violence, myself. The only non self-inflicted injury was the bump of a push chair into my poor arthritic heel, when we first arrived at Canning town tube station. Not a good way to start a march.

A very nice and friendly policeman asked me about my sign and it was obvious he whole heartedly agreed that the banks and uber rich should pay a proportionately fair tax.

There were 3 police reps on our coach, going to march against the cuts.

As we left Hyde park (about 4pm) and walked back up to Green Park tube crowds of demonstrators were still pouring in.

When we got back, the Unison organiser on our coach, asked me and fellow demonstrator from Musician's Union (who happens also to be a colleague) if we would be interested in performing at a concert the local TUC is planning.

I declined. I am a sing a round kind of girl.

Wonderful surprise to see Show of Hands.

Sitting here with my feet propped up on ice pack, watching the news, wishing the few twiddle dick trouble makers had stayed at home to wank off, because they are stealing the positive news away from the real demonstration.

Love to all. Even the ones who wanted me to get my head stove in.