AS a newspaper, we have actively added our voice to the No Third Runway' campaign.

It is the voice of our readers. It is their homes that would be bulldozed to make way for airport expansion. No Third Runway is their voice - and we have echoed it.

On Sunday I joined hundreds of Climate Camp protesters as they began 24-hours of direct action.

I don't think the village of Sipson has ever seen anything like it.

Activists, 20-somethings, the middle aged, the elderly, children and teachers, all marched in unity along the route of the proposed third runway.

We had been in direct contact with the camp's organisers all week. And every time we asked them about possible trouble, they told us the same thing.

They were not here to make trouble, not for the residents of Hillingdon, nor for the passengers of Heathrow.

But during the march, my sceptical journalistic mind still expected the worst. Maybe I was even subconciously hoping for it. After all, trouble makes a powerful story.

However, the atmosphere was like a carnival with singing and smiling crowds. While walking beside them, I sensed a quiet - and peaceful - determination amongst the protesters.

They expressed their dismay at what they called the "heavy handed" approach taken by the massed ranks of police. There were huge numbers of officers present and most seemed tense, anticipating trouble. In direct contrast, the protesters did not seem tense at all, despite a number of scuffles.

I was caught up in one of these scuffles along the way. A group of marchers had somehow broken free from the main body of protesters and had been corralled by police. I asked one of the officers why these people were being penned in. He said: "They won't tell us where they are going."

And it was this confrontation which left me in a quandry. I understood police wanted to know where all the protesters were. Let's face it, if a random terrorist had decided to use this day to set off a bomb, wouldn't we have all judged the police and wanted to know why they hadn't prevented it?

But, as I looked from the faces of the environmental protesters, surrounded by uniformed officers and mounted police, I could feel the tension. Was there really any need for this ring of steel? I seriously doubt it. And just 100 yards behind us, I could hear the main group of marchers still raising their voices in song.

Later, in Bath Road, tense police in riot gear formed yet another ring, this time around the BAA headquarters. Another group broke free and police charged after them with truncheons and horses, again corralling them.

Yet again, protesters within the circle still continued to raise their voices in song.

And next to me, watching it all unfold, stood a grey-haired woman. She wore jeans and a tweed jacket, bearing a "No Third Runway" badge. She asked the policeman next to us: "Why are there so many police here? What on earth are you expecting us to do?"

He answered her: "We have a duty to protect the people that live here, that's all we are doing."

She smiled "How silly." She said. "That's all we're doing too."

I was left wondering: did they really have the same goal?