ABSTRACT

I pulled on the rope which was strung between the main building and the firmly locked gates, upsetting a group of cans suspended next to the front door, which clattered into one another and loudly announced my arrival. After a while, a collie ran out to meet me as a face appeared around the corner of a door-frame which had been roughly cut out of the wall. Once I had introduced myself as a researcher interested in the Occupy movement, she unlocked the gates and invited me in with the caveat: ‘you won’t find many activists here – we’re all hippies’.