It was three-quarters of the way through the 24 hours which a grim-faced Tony Blair had given for the fuel situation to be getting back to normal, and nothing outside the Elf terminal here had changed. Half a dozen policemen were lolling in their van or strolling around beside it, chatting to protesters. Eighteen lorries, their windscreens and engine cowlings covered with "Fair Play on Fuel" stickers, were parked on the verge where the terminal's access road meets the highway.

Determined hauliers and their wives stood nearby, ready to move out on to the road at the sight of any tanker trying to leave the refinery. Most ominously of all for the government, virtually every private car which drove past hooted in support or gave the thumbs up. Occasionally one would stop to hand out sandwiches or even an urn of tea.

The New Normality of a protest which seems to have united all sections of the community, at least in this part of south Wales, is winning out over the Old Normality which the prime minister is desperately trying to restore. Maybe it is that with their own tanks full thanks to last weekend's panic buying people can afford to let the protest go on a bit longer. Genuine inconvenience down here seems to be minimal, in spite of all the London talk of the country being paralysed, and the campaign for lower fuel taxes is certainly popular in a rural area where life has come to depend on the car.

Thirteen tankers rumbled out of the terminal here shortly after dawn yesterday, but this was no different from the first day of the protest. "We check the drivers' dockets and make sure they are going on emergency business for ambulance depots, the fire service, hospital generators and the like," said Philip Knight, a spokesman for the protesters. "This is what we've been doing all the time. There's no change there."

He had just emerged from a meeting in the Elf terminal with its security staff and the police. "This is a peaceful protest in full cooperation with the police. The police just wanted to discuss the state of affairs. Were we happy with the way they're handling things? We said yes," he explained. A police sergeant confirmed that Mr Blair's speech had brought no shift in tactics. "Our strength here is still the bare minimum. The hauliers are making their case peacefully", he said.

Mr Knight acknowledged that some tanker drivers were "wary for themselves and their vehicles" if they tried to drive out on a non-emergency fuel run. "There's no problem here in the vicinity, but you don't know what might happen further away and to get a police car to follow a tanker is a big thing," he said.

The populist direct action by small business which this protest represents may be new for Britain but it has many traditional ingredients of trade union militancy - a feeling that politicians, whether they call themselves left or right or Third Way, don't really care; that the media distorts their case; and that employers or in this instance the government fails to negotiate unless pressure is applied through withholding services or labour. "It's never been so hard to make ends meet. I've been up to London twice for demonstrations and to lobby Parliament," said John Jones, who runs five lorries. "We've been fighting for a reduction in fuel tax for two years, and got nowhere."

No future

"There's no future in this area," his wife, Shirley, chipped in. They have spent four nights outside the terminal, sleeping in the cab of their lorry. "Our son, Gareth, is doing a university course in chemistry. We've encouraged him not to come into the business. Family businesses are dying out."

Tackled on the argument that if the government gives in and lowers fuel taxes, there will be less money for schools and hospitals, her friend Kim Lewis snorted. "They're not even keeping schools open," she said. "They closed Bwlch-y-groes primary school, a perfectly good thriving school, in July because they want to amalgamate it. Schools are the hub of a village, like churches used to be. We fought to keep it open. As for hospitals, waiting lists are getting longer."

Other hauliers insist that all they want is a "level playing field" with fuel taxes brought down to the European average so that they can compete. They see French lorries coming over to nearby Fishguard with full tanks of diesel, delivering a load of goods, then working for local British companies for a week until the fuel runs out, and then going home. But their animosity is not ethnically directed against the French. They worry about unfair competition.

Across the road sits Michael (he would not give his real name), an owner driver who has only one vehicle. "I voted Labour last time, but won't do it again unless they kick Tony Blair into touch and let someone negotiate with us. All this talk of intimidation is government spin. You can see this is a peaceful protest. Some owner-drivers are in the Transport and General Workers' Union. Others are not. But this isn't a union thing. It's a business. At the beginning they said single-lorry owners wouldn't take part in this protest because we would have to keep on working. But we're in it alongside the bigger companies. There's no gain without pain."

Many protesters say they were inspired by the success of the French hauliers protests a week ago, though they point out their grievances are long-standing even if their tactics are new. Many also say they found Mr Blair's tough talk of intimidation and not giving in both offensive and a challenge. The scandal of the Millennium Dome is also regularly mentioned as a sign that the government has got its priorities wrong.

The fuel protest has brought in farmers and fishermen. Dai Jones, a lobsterman from Cardigan, was sitting by the road. "I have an eighteen-footer which runs on petrol. I've been fishing for 15 years but will have to pack it in unless the price goes down." Steve Glover, who shoes horses for a living, was radicalised by the countryside protests in favour of hunting and enjoyed the big demonstration in London. Now he was in a yellow reflecting jacket beside the hauliers.

Support

Admitting he voted Conservative because of the hunting issue, he is looking forward to protesting at the Labour party conference in two weeks' time. "I'll be there. I'm getting the hang of it," he laughed. But at 39 and with two small children, he is not really a tearaway. "We watched Blair on TV yesterday. He fired us up. To say that in 24 hours everything would be normal. That's a big promise. We only decided to come down here last night when we heard some people were disbanding. We wanted to show our support".

Away from the front line the protest has strong backing, especially as emergency services are not being affected. "We are working normally," said George Oulton, control manger for ambulance services in Pembrokeshire, in his office at Withybush hospital in Haverfordwest. "I've not heard anyone here who doesn't support the protesters." A hundred yards away the Murco petrol station got new supplies from Elf yesterday. It allowed hospital staff and other emergency workers to fill their cars on production of an identity card.

Two housekeepers in uniforms emerge from the hospital's main entrance. "I'm in favour of these protests. They've started now. We've got to support them," said Diane Roberts. "I voted Labour, but Blair is trying to be a Thatcher. It's not true there is intimidation."

The rhetoric is tough and the sentiments sincere but there is still an amazing amount of good humour about these protests. Community solidarity helps and the feeling that real hardship has not yet arrived. "We're all in support as long as it's not really affecting us", laughed Edith Whitby. "Ask me in a fortnight's time when I haven't got any petrol left."

For the government, especially now that it has put a short deadline on its hopes of ending it, the protest is not going to be so easy to handle.