From the seventh floor of
the multi-storey car-park at this late hour the view is rather magnificent, but
a cruel wind is whipping up the rubbish and there is not a soul around. I’m a Thames
Reach London Street Rescue team volunteer tonight searching for rough sleepers
with my colleague Rob and we have received a self-referral from a man sleeping
rough in the car-park. It’s been a frustrating night. In Hounslow we discovered
plenty of cardboard bedding but not the group of Lithuanians we feared could be
sleeping rough. Under Kew Bridge and in a park in Putney the lone rough
sleepers we have been tasked with contacting were not in their usual places. I ruminate
on the unsettling paradox of being grievously disappointed not to find someone
sleeping rough in sub-zero temperature.
But here on the stairwell we find our man, a 21-year old Pole called Karol. His is a story which is virtually a generic tale of youth homelessness. He came to this country as a fourteen year old unable to speak a…
But here on the stairwell we find our man, a 21-year old Pole called Karol. His is a story which is virtually a generic tale of youth homelessness. He came to this country as a fourteen year old unable to speak a…