Waking up on 20th August, I at first had to think where I was. It seemed odd that the bed wasn’t shaking – then I remembered that I was no longer on the train, but in Moscow…in the middle of an international crisis. I had a quick breakfast, provided in the apartment, and then caught the metro to Belorussky Station. There, I checked that the train I was booked on in the evening was still expected to run, and left my backpack in the left luggage.

Then, equipped with my small day pack, my camera, my little radio, and an immense curiosity to know which way world history was headed, I got the metro directly to Red Square. Alighting at Marx Prospekt metro station. I climbed the steps up to street level… and straight into a solid line of armoured personnel carriers and troops.

From where I was I could just see into Red Square, with St. Basils Cathedral visible in the haze. Clearly nobody was being allowed into Red Square. I took an extra step to get a better angle for a photo, and got a dirty look from one of the soldiers.

Clearly things were tense – the crowd was considerable and though nobody was attempting to get past the line, the soldiers must have felt somewhat intimidated by the sheer numbers of civilians milling around.

Realising that I was likely to need more film than I had with me, I went into the nearby department store “GUM” with my fingers crossed. I was in luck – they had a roll of Ektachrome, and also a map of Moscow. I finally felt fully equipped for the day ahead. At the southeast end of GUM I got a glimpse of the Kremlin Clock Tower over the top of the roadblock – but the day was murky and a very poor choice indeed for seeing the sights of Moscow.

From GUM I headed for the Bolshoi Theatre.

There was a lot of activity – more troops were being brought in by bus, and in the distance I could see what appeared to be the front of a flag-waving demonstration coming slowly down Karl Marx Prospekt. It seemed likely that things would hot up before they calmed down…

I walked down Marx Prospekt, heading once more in the direction of the Kremlin. At the junction of Tverskaya (Gorky) and Marx there was a double line of APC’s and trucks, and I climbed on top of a wall to get a better view.

There were more obvious signs that people were actively protesting rather than just curiously looking on. A man in a suit was standing on a wall, addressing the crowd using a loud hailer. I suspected that much of what he said was actually directed at the soldiers rather than the crowds.

Something seemed to be happening – there was some yelling from the troop commander and the crowds started milling around and looking up the road. Following people’s gaze, I walked slowly up Tverskaya away from the Kremlin and saw that the army was starting to establish a second line of defense, one block further from the Kremlin. APCs were being maneuvered into position. Clearly all the people protesting down on Marx Prospekt were going to find themselves within this new defensive line.

I wandered back down to Marx Prospekt to make the most of being closer to the Kremlin before we were all actually chased away. Just then a huge demonstration, carrying an enormous Russian flag which must have been at least 50 metres long, came into view past the Bolshoi Theatre, marched slowly down to the corner and turned right to go up Tverskaya.

But by now the second road block further up Tverskaya was sealed, trapping the demonstration behind the new line. People started massing behind the line. The army had to reverse one of the APCs out of the way to let the demonstration through, which caused jeers and ironic laughter from the crowds. This can all be seen in the next set of photos.

Once the thousands of people had streamed through, what look like riot police came quickly up, and looked like they were going to start chasing the remaining people out from behind the second line of defense.

At that point I decided it would be a good idea to walk down to the Russian Parliament Building to see what was going on there. It was just under 3 km away and as I got closer I could see that there was an aerostatic blimp flying above it.

I was approaching the Russian Parliament (or “White House”, as it is nicknamed) when I saw another demonstration heading towards me with linked arms.

The crowds round the Russian Parliament were huge – I could hear them cheering long before I could see quite how many there were. I estimated many tens of thousands. There, I saw what had been excitedly reported on the BBC last night – that there were a few tanks that had mutinied and come to support Yeltsin in opposing the coup.

I edged closer to the front of the the Russian Parliament building, where I could hear a speech from someone on the balcony coming through the loudspeakers that were dotted around.

“Boris Yeltsin?” I asked someone. “Nyet” came the reply. The crowd continued chatting restlessly. Suddenly there was a hush, and everyone turned to face forwards. A different voice came over the speakers. “Boris Yeltsin?” I asked again. “Da! Da! Shhh” said the same guy.

I listened to Boris Yeltsin for a few minutes. Even though I couldn’t understand him, his voice had charisma, and the crowd clearly loved him. His defiant gesture of climbing on a tank the previous evening and declaring the coup illegal had clearly had the desired effect. I had to wonder what would have happened if the coup leaders had managed to capture Yeltsin. Surely the motivation of this enormous crowd would have been much less.

But even with a charismatic leader on a balcony, an enthusiastic crowd of civilians, and a handful of tank commanders who had mutinied, it didn’t affect the fact that the overwhelming majority of the Red Army was still being commanded from the Kremlin, just 3 km away.

I fished out a snack for lunch. The day was far from over…