There had been two distinct parts to the demonstrations in Brussels on Monday.

The principal bit, with the perfect a part of a thousand tractors squeezing into the centre, was a present of sentiment - a requirement to politicians to hearken to the calls for of farmers.

But then got here the second bit - the confrontational bit that concerned fires, fights and, nicely, manure.

That was the bit which can get the eye, after all, and observing it was a visceral expertise.

The acrid odor of burning tyres and the occasional volley of tear gasoline from the police.

The drenching rain from above, mixed with the numerous gallons that flooded streets from the assorted water cannon dotted across the metropolis.

At one level, we watched as a water cannon spent ages firing water at a fireplace burning along side the road.

The hearth was simply behind a barricade, and the water simply stored bouncing off.

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After 5 minutes, and with the road now flooded, the water cannon was turned off.

The first instantly sprang again up, simply as fierce as ever.

The noise was relentless.

The fixed hoots from tractors, from the general public deal with programs of an apparently limitless line of farmers' union leaders who needed to make a speech, however primarily the cacophonous noise of small explosions.

Farmers have prepared entry to loud fireworks that they use to scare birds or, on this occasion, the police or occasional journalists.

One was rolled to the toes of my colleague and I, exploding with a loud bang that left us with ringing ears.

As we seemed up, startled, a gaggle of laughing, braying faces stared at us from a number of yards away.

Time to depart…

Content Source: information.sky.com