Sir - Walking down the High at ten to six was great.

A cheery crowd was converging, all a little surprised at being out at such an unusual hour. But when we got to Westgate Hotel, we could go no further.

Barriers had been put up, not to stop us jumping into the river, but because someone thought the bridge was full (though how they could tell, heaven only knows).

When the singing began, one young man stripped to his underpants and tried to race through.

He was wrestled to the ground, handcuffed, frog-marched to a police van and shoved in. For what? The hour between 6 and 7am on May Morning encapsulates all the alluring complexity and fascinating contradictions of Oxford: people of every age and social stratum coming together to celebrate the spring and the uniqueness of our very special city.

But what do our council and our police do? Their very best to spoil our simple enjoyment of it, that's what.

Peter Furtado, Oxford