Anybody venturing down O'Connell Street yesterday morning might have been left with the impression that a major political event was taking place, rather than the sale of a few books.

Tony Blair was in town, hawking his memoir, A Journey. In pursuit of this end, much of the commercial life around Eason's on O'Connell Street was brought to a standstill in a major security operation. Citybound journeys on the Luas were terminated at Smithfield, the guts of a mile from the centre, which must have been a serious inconvenience to the few tourists who still visit. A platoon of yellow-bibbed gardaí formed a cordon around the bookseller, as barricades were erected to keep back the 300 or so who were protesting against Blair.

Stallholders were displaced from O'Connell Street on the busiest day of the week. One side of the thoroughfare was closed to traffic, with a checkpoint mounted at O'Connell Bridge. Eason's was closed for normal business on the first Saturday of the school year. Next door, Penneys operated its business behind closed shutters. Upstairs in the department store, a female garda stood sentry between men's shoes and shirts. On the far side of Eason's, entry to Clark's shoe shop required passing through a security cordon. Overhead, the garda helicopter chopped through the rain.

Meanwhile, the heavy showers persisted, as those with opposing views of Blair either queued to buy a book or chanted the belief that he was a war criminal. The only levity came from a couple of Hare Khrisnas who used the occasion to sing praise to their deity.

The controversy around the former British prime minister has led to the cancellation of publicity events for the book in his own country, but over here no inconvenience is too much to ensure that a few books can be flogged.

The protestors, led by the anti-war movement, kicked off at 9.30am, but love conquered hate in the Blair stakes, with some fans beginning to queue as early as 1am. The queue eventually swelled to around 500. Patrick Rochford was third in line and he arrived around 3.30am. He came all the way from Galway to lend Blair a little support.

"I saw him on the Late Late last night and I thought it was disgraceful the way Ryan Tubridy harassed him," Patrick said. "So I got the Citylink bus at 1.15am and arrived here around 3.30am. It's important to show support; I would recognise the good that he has done."

On the other side of the barricades, Palestinian support activist Freda Hughes was spreading the word through a loudhailer. She was not best pleased with "the power-hungry, warmonger who is going to be in Eason's shortly". Another protestor carried a placard illustrating blood splattered across Blair's bright, shiny face. When asked what group she was with, Sandra Browne looked up at the placard as if for confirmation. "Anti-war movement," she said. "I believe what happened in Iraq was very wrong. I don't like war."

There was plenty of noise ahead of the man's arrival, the queue for the loudhailer being led by the ubiquitous Richard Boyd Barrett, who is a fair man to get a chant going. Blair arrived at 10.30am, prompting a rush for the barricades which was repelled with the cost of a few scuffles. A few shoes were thrown in his direction, after which the shutters came down in Penneys. After that, it was handbags stuff, resulting in three or four arrests which, no doubt, will be considered a badge of honour by the protestors.

The book flogger left on the next leg of his journey to the sound of sirens after 12.30pm, his presence having done little for the pulse of commercial life in a city limping through the depths of recession.