Yob Britain: A night out in the dispersal zones
From tomorrow, certain zones will be off-limits to drunkenness and other anti-social behaviour. How will cities cope?
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9pm in Camden
9pm in Camden
It is summer and the city streets are about to be taken over by gangs of marauding youths who will terrorise innocent citizens. In response, a curfew zone has been declared: any child under 16 out after 9pm can be ordered home and any groups of two or more can be ordered from the area, or face jail.
This is not the plot of a futuristic novel. It is what will happen in the centre of London from tomorrow night.
On the face of it, Camden Town does not seem the typical run-down inner-city area. More than 14 million people a year visit its markets and music venues. Within the new "dispersal zone", which will last for four months, live Jonathan Miller and the Secretary of State for Health, Patricia Hewitt. But jostling for space with tree-lined Georgian streets are run-down estates and gangs of hooded teenagers, such as the Denton Boys.
At around 9pm on Friday they walked out of the estate from which they take their name and sat in a group along a low wall. With hoods, bicycle masks and scowls it is easy to believe the boys, all 14, are up to no good.
"The dispersal zone won't work," says one. "We'll just go somewhere else. There's nothing to do around here. There's no clubs. The police hassle us. Once we were going out with our youth worker and a load of police came."
"We're bored," chimes in another. "We want to go on a scrambling course. We want to work with engines."
Around the corner a group of 16-year-old boys are drinking Stella and smoking cigarettes in the street. "We just chill," says one. "It's not a gang. We're just a group of lads. If they split us up we'll just gather again round the back of the flats."
There is no doubt, however, that kids have been causing trouble in Camden. Last month a 15-strong gang ran rampage through the town centre, throwing bottles and smashing pub windows.
Anthony Brooks, the area's former police chief and now the local authority's head of community safety, says: "It's a problem that's been brewing for about the past 12 months. We're not nipping it in the bud, but dealing with an established problem."
He emphasises that the zones are just one tool in an array of measures to deal with disorder, including sending out youth workers to engage kids in sport. "It's not as easy as setting up youth clubs," he says. "Hanging around on the streets seems to be a choice."
Jonathan Miller, who used the term "feral children" about the gangs near his home, is more circumspect. "Why are they alienated and hanging around the streets? Probably because no one provides any facilities for them," he says. "In the short term the zone may have an immediate effect. Or will it increase resentment by constantly shifting them around?"
By Andrew Johnson. Additional reporting by Ryan Fitzpatrick
9pm in Newcastle
In a doorway, a teenage girl lay slumped with her legs paddling in a puddle of blue and green vomit. Across the road, another lifted her T-shirt, baring her breasts to boozed-up boys. Nearby, her friend stuck a fist flat in the face of a lager-addled man.
This was Newcastle's Bigg Market on Friday. And it was only 9pm. City centres across Britain see carnage come closing time, but in the North's epicentre of alcoholic excess it all kicks off a little earlier.
The young guns of this swinging city had been lapping up lager and alcopops for hours. They spilled out of brightly coloured drinking dens such as Cage, Flares and Kiss, mixing in the market as they staggered onwards in pursuit of another vodka and Red Bull.
Among them were Claire and Vicki, who made it perfectly clear what they had in mind for the evening. Though already struggling with words, Claire had no qualms obliging when a passing group of lads declared that they wanted to see "topless bitches".
And such antics appear to have convinced the local men that girls have more fun. Kelvin and Michael, from Felling,came as Kelly and Michaela for the evening. They ditched their T-shirts and jeans in favour of pink hair and miniskirts. You just need to attract a little attention, they explained. And the approach was paying off. They were surrounded by women.
"You can't fail here," said Michael. "This is the best city in the world."
"And you don't even have to take the girls home," added Kelvin. "Loads of them will just nip up a lane with you."
A wander over to Grainger Street was all it took to realise Kelvin was not exaggerating. In a doorway, a female form was kneeling in front of a beer can-clutching figure.
Other men stood alone in the doorways and side streets, creating miniature rivers of urine that trickled together to form more significant streams, running down to the more upmarket bars on the banks of the Tyne.
And where men and women compete for attention there is jealousy. And jealousy mixed with alcohol is a potent cocktail. Two women separated by some burly men flew for each other. It was never going to be a fair contest. One was a waif, her opponent resembled a sumo wrestler.
One of the many police patrol vans swung into action. Fights, al fresco sex acts and peeing in doorways may have been the Bigg Market way for years, but Northumbria constabulary has now declared the party over. Phone boxes bear the force's new slogan: "Get drunk, get violent, get disorderly, get locked up."
Still, though, the urine flows; the couple clutch and skirmishes flare. Not that it puts visitors off. Far from it. Newcastle on Friday night was a rich mix of accents and ages.
From Scotland, Ireland, Wales and other parts of England they had come to enjoy the legendary nightlife. Down by the end of the Quayside, a stag party from Neath led the Pitcher and Piano in renditions of Welsh rugby anthems. And the Geordies joined in. While other cities shun the big squads of drinkers, this city opens its arms to them. They almost seem flattered that the rest of the country wants to come to play their game.
Tyneside has been described as Britain's Bilbao - but don't go looking for a quiet evening nibbling tapas.
By Stephen Khan
DISPERSAL ZONES
What are they?
Officially a "dispersal notice". A designated area in which the police have special powers.
What powers?
They can ban groups of two or more people of any age who are deemed to be indulging in anti-social behaviour at any time of day for up to 24 hours. A dispersal notice also gives the police the power to take children (those under the age of 16) home if they are found on the streets after 9pm.
And if the targets of such an order refuse to leave?
They can be arrested and fined up to £2,500 or face a sentence of up to three months in prison.
Where does it come from?
These powers form part of the Anti-Social Behaviour Act 2003.
Who decides?
The declaration of such a zone is made by a police superintendent. However, the officer must have the support of the local authority.
How big is it?
The size of dispersal zones can vary from the area around a cash machine to a whole swathe of an inner city.
How long does it last?
Orders last for a maximum of six months, but can then be extended.
Supporters say:
"A real boost in our battle against the yobs" - former Home Office minister Hazel Blears
Critics say:
"These powers fail to distinguish between the innocent and the guilty" - Liberty
Kids say:
Give us something to do, then.