As thousands of revellers enjoyed a festive Saturday night out in Canterbury, reporter Jack Dyson joined those with the unenviable task of spotting any trouble before it begins.

It’s Christmas party season. The streets are lined with men wearing eye-wateringly tight jeans and festive jumpers, and women hobbling along in sky-high heels.

The faint aroma of cigarettes drifts through the air and the noise of drunken revellers grows with each second.

It’s a busy Saturday night and I’m out in the city centre with Oli Nonis, Lee Flisher and Dan Musad.

The three are from Akon Security, which provides doormen for many of Canterbury’s nightspots.

They tell me about the unforgiving nature of their job. Oli and Lee have both been bottled – the latter has a pronounced scar on his lower lip from an attack.

He has also been threatened at knifepoint, while Oli has been set upon by groups of people in the past.

“If anyone says that they don’t get scared, they’re lying,” Lee says. “You’re always on your toes.”

Dan, who moved to Britain from Romania 11 years ago, says xenophobic abuse is frequently hurled his way.

“When you try to explain to people why they can’t enter a club, that’s when they start to get abusive,” says the 34-year-old. “I’ve had all sorts of stuff said to me – ‘go back to your own country’ and ‘you’re not even English’ – but it doesn’t affect me. If you let everything get to you in this job, it’ll get you down.

“Whenever someone says these types of things to me, I say ‘tell me something I don’t know’. I think people are getting worse and worse in terms of behaviour. It seems to be getting easier for them to get their hands on drugs.”

Oli, who runs the security company, says many of his doormen encounter similar kinds of prejudice.

“The racism is crazy – it’s never changed,” he tells me. “People try to find something to get a reaction out of you to get you into trouble. You have to be thick-skinned.”

As we set out on our rounds from Orange Street at just after 8.30pm on Saturday night, Oli is hopeful of a peaceful evening.

“I expect it to be busy, though,” he adds.

“At this time of year, you get larger groups going out. The potential for trouble is a lot higher. We’ve got more than 70 staff working tonight.”

For the next three hours, I follow them as they walk between the Ballroom in Orange Street and The Pound in Pound Lane, monitoring the behaviour of those entering the bars.

Even when they are deep in conversation, their eyes dart up and down the streets checking for signs of trouble.

“Watch this lot,” Oli says to me, nodding towards a group of six men rowdily making their way towards the Ballroom.

One of the men throws a bottle at the feet of another, prompting Oli to tell his colleagues on the door over a walkie talkie not to allow them in.

The group protest the decision when they try to enter, but soon amble away towards the centre of town.

“They would probably have caused trouble if we let them in,” Oli remarks.

The doormen’s ability to recognise faces is also evident. “You become good with faces,” Pete says, “which is why I’m looking at you now thinking I recognise you from somewhere.”

Becoming increasingly red-faced, I realise I’d bumped into him on one of my many visits to the Venue when I was a student at the University of Kent.

As I rack my brain for any embarrassing memories, he gives me a knowing smile. “Canterbury’s a small place and we see many of the same faces,” Oli adds.

Over the three hours, it has been relatively uneventful.

Aside from the odd occasion when someone was refused entry into the bars, the revellers have been well-behaved.

This seems to reflect the fact Canterbury has once again been awarded a Purple Flag - given to towns and cities which offer varied and safe night-time entertainment.

But as we walk along Guildhall Street, Oli, Pete and Dan suddenly start to sprint towards the end of the queue for the Cuban.

As they round the corner, a stocky man with blond hair punches someone in the line. The victim’s head cracks against the pavement and his attacker starts to run away.

As the man lies unconscious in the High Street, his shrieking friends try to pull his body into the recovery position.

As I jog after Oli and Dan, I see they have apprehended the attacker, who’s clearly drunk and yelling, “Get off me! Get off me!”

In between expletive-laden shouts, he slams his own head against a glass shop front.

Minutes later, police arrive to arrest him. At the same time, several clubbers are evicted from the Cuban for being too drunk and a woman is pulled away from the queue by two doormen.

“Our immediate reaction was to make sure he didn’t hurt anyone else,” Oli says afterwards. “When I saw the guy hit the floor, I knew it was bad; you could see he was knocked out. Thankfully, he was OK and is pressing charges.

“It came straight out the blue. The job can often go from being quite calm to chaos.”

Following this explosion of activity, the High Street continues to hum with drunken revellers, and the redolence of cigarettes and alcohol remains.

But, as I leave the three and head for bed, I’ve seen enough to know those looking to enjoy a festive - and trouble-free - night out in the city are in much safer hands with experienced doormen like these on the streets.

Figures obtained by KentOnline last month revealed police call-outs to city nightclubs have fallen dramatically in the last five years.

Akon Security boss Oli Nonis believes it's a sign of door staff dealing with a greater number of incidents themselves.

His employees have encountered a number of unsavoury incidents which have appeared on the pages of the Gazette in recent years.

On Christmas Eve, 2014, body-cam footage showed a drunk man swearing 165 times at doormen during a 10-minute tirade.

In January last year security staff at the Cuban nightclub were confronted by knife-wielding thug Gideon Wallace.

The 19-year-old drew the weapon after he was thrown out of the popular venue for vomiting over the bar. He was later given a suspended prison sentence.

The following month, at the same venue, security supervisor Linda Dubsky, 24, had her hip broken by a flying kick from a drunken student who had been thrown out for fighting.

Ali Ketbi, 20, admitted GBH and also narrowly avoided a prison sentence.