Episode 2 Swansea: Living on the Streets

This programme contains some strong language and some scenes which some viewers may find upsetting

Sleeping rough is becoming a reality

for more and more people in Wales.

The number of homeless are on the increase

and now they exceed 10,000.

I never thought this would happen to me. No, never.

I wanted to discover why people became homeless,

how they manage to survive

and why the largest numbers of homeless people are here in Swansea.

For some, the only option is to try and survive on the streets.

If you're strong-minded, then you can do it.

If you're not strong-minded,

the only thing you'll end up doing is ending up in a box.

And following the lives of those with nowhere else to go

would prove to be an upsetting story.

Filmed over three months in the run-up to Christmas,

toughest time of the year for the homeless,

this is the reality of living on Swansea's streets.

The homeless can end up spending all their waking hours

trying to find even temporary shelter.

Sleeping rough and surviving outdoors is exhausting,

leaving little energy to find a permanent place to live.

I first met Georgica,

a migrant from Romania, five weeks ago.

He's been homeless in Swansea for around three years.

Go sleeping? Go where I sleeping?

I got used to Georgica's way of communicating.

Since he came here, he's never had a proper home.

I followed him from the shopping centre

and soon we arrived at a house.

Amazingly, the door was unlocked.

Georgica became anxious and wanted me to keep quiet.

I didn't know what was happening and he couldn't really spell it out.

I assumed that the residents had no idea

that Georgica was actually sleeping in their loft.

Hostels and housing projects

provide 80 beds for the homeless in Swansea.

But at any one time, there can be as many as 500

urgent cases of homelessness on the council's list.

And getting to be housed can be fraught with difficulties.

Alan has been homeless on and off for 14 years.

He came to Swansea from London and decided to stay.

-Where are we heading, Alan?

-To Access Point, just over there.

An emergency bed.

For the third night.

Hopefully.

Alan's a long-term rough sleeper, but for the last two nights,

he's had Swansea's one and only emergency bed,

which he gets through this local charity.

-You back for the bed?

-Yeah.

-What's your name?

-Alan Raynor.

-I think Carl put my name down.

-Yeah, your name is down.

-Give us 10 minutes, mate, yeah?

-All right. No problem. Cheers.

There's one other person, Sarah,

who's put her name down for the bed, as well.

She's been homeless on and off for three years.

Alan? 6 o'clock, mate, you've got the bed.

Have you got somewhere you can go tonight?

-No.

-You haven't?

-Sarah didn't get the bed.

-You've got the bed, Alan.

-I know. I just feel bad.

-It's all right.

-I know, I know.

-I just feel bad.

-Don't feel bad. You haven't done nothing wrong.

You've got the bed, just be happy about that.

All right. Thanks very much.

Women out on the streets

are usually considered to be at greater risk than men.

But this time, Alan gets priority

because he has health problems made worse by sleeping out.

It gets worse in the cold weather. Very painful.

I've got it in my hands at the moment, as well.

I've even got it in my elbows.

Any, any joint at all, you can get it.

First thing in the morning, it's a nightmare.

It takes about 10-15 minutes to get going. Huh!

Now, because of his poor health,

Alan is at the top of the waiting list for one of these flats.

I was offered that first of all, one of the brand-new ones,

but they've all been taken.

So they're trying to push through one of the other ones

that were there for some time.

Family break-up is one of the many reasons

why people can find themselves on the streets.

And sometimes, it can happen quite unexpectedly.

Helena has spent four nights in the cold and wet.

Not getting enough sleep takes its toll.

It's making me ill.

I think I need some kind of help, you know, temporarily.

It's just too much.

This church is now a day centre

run by the Cyrenians charity who help the homeless.

Helena can at least get a meal and dry out here.

She told me that her roots are in Pembrokeshire

and that she'd been living in Egypt, where she taught English.

Helena married an Egyptian, but the relationship broke down.

It could happen to anyone who goes through divorce,

especially an international divorce,

where you find yourself

in the situation you need to re-establish

and, um, it obviously takes a little time to do that.

And if you don't have people to support you

or people who you thought were there for you who are suddenly not there,

then you have to try to do it alone.

And at the moment, that's impossible.

So you need, obviously, the help of people like this, in a day centre.

She had a home, a job and a family,

but now she's back in Wales with next to nothing.

Helena has no alternative now but to rely on charity.

And she has to ask for money for winter shoes.

So if I can go with that guy to Primark, that will be quite useful.

Yeah.

So, um,...it's just a question of, like,

you know, practical needs, isn't it?

-Yeah, yeah. That's fine.

-Christine, the Cyrenians manager,

arranges for one of the volunteers, Roger, to go with her to buy shoes.

-What, are they just uncomfortable?

-Well, I struggle with walking.

These were just a little bit more...

That's all right. I've got the money.

-We'll have to ask Christine to maybe...

-Don't worry about it.

-..Give an extra five pounds.

-I've got it. Don't worry.

-Is that all right?

-Yeah.

Thank you. It's very kind of you.

If you need something and you need to look after your health and safety,

then, you know, you just have to be thankful for small mercies.

So this was my home for nearly...

I don't know, four days or so, about a week ago. Right here.

Um...well, it was a question of going around to get cardboard boxes

and use those as a groundsheet and then just, er...

The people in the hostel give you blankets.

As you can imagine, at night-time, it's not very nice.

People have got here and sprayed black all over the floor

and sprayed the walls. And all kinds of...

..not very pleasant things.

Alan's checking in with the Cyrenians.

Because of his poor health, they've been helping him

to get off the streets for years.

It's Gaynor from the new housing...

One of the housing associations has been trying to get hold of him.

Right.

Right. Thanks, Gaynor.

Yeah. Take care. Yeah. Bye.

Huh!

I've got a flat.

HE LAUGHS

Made my day. Huh!

Made my day, that has.

Been to the dentist, overcome that,

now I've got a flat in 10 days' time.

Alan can't believe the news.

I've got one of the places.

-I move into one of the flats next week.

-Right.

-One across the road.

-You've got one of the other flats?

-Yeah.

-Oh, well done. Nice one.

-Oh, I'm glad they got back to you today, anyway.

-Yeah.

As a teenager,

Alan had great prospects as a professional golf coach.

I was preparing golf clubs, teaching people how to play golf.

Earning very, very good money for then,

as an 18 year old.

Had its perks, as well. I could play anywhere in Europe for nothing.

It was a good life, actually. Very good life.

But the good times were short-lived.

Alan's downfall was alcohol,

which resulted in him being separated from his partner

and daughter.

SIRENS WAIL

Many of the homeless and street people I met were alcoholics

and were convinced that the police had it in for them.

One of them has just been given a ticket.

-This on tape?

-What's that?

Section 27.

There we are, there's the boot.

If I'm not out of that perimeter in 15 minutes,

I will be arrested.

Yes, definitely, 15 minutes.

There we are. Read it, if you like.

We were drinking on the streets. They don't like it, you know.

They want us all off the streets, man.

They're afraid of us, yeah?

And that's it, like, yeah?

Section 27 is being used by the Swansea police

to remove anyone from the town centre

who they think might commit a violent crime.

Another rough-sleeper has been moved on by the police.

I was minding my own business. I was drinking Lucozade.

I wasn't even drinking that, it was in my pocket. Lucozade.

And he told me to move on or he's going to arrest me.

That's what I'm angry about.

On the same evening in Castle Square,

the police apprehend two more people.

And one of them is Alan.

Over the years, he's been issued with countless Section 27s

ordering him out of the town.

I haven't done anything! Nothing!

When you sat up there, they were all drinking.

They've tagged you for drinking with them.

-What did they say?

-They had a go at me because, you know, I'm drinking.

Again! Two in two days, I've had.

Mr Raynor, it's been explained to you. On your way, please.

If you don't leave, you will be arrested. It's entirely up to you.

-I'll leave.

-On your way, then. OK?

-What for, though?

-Go on, then.

-What have I done?

-Say it again?

-What have I done?

It's been explained to you. It's time to go, isn't it?

I-I-I haven't even... I haven't even got a can on me!

The next day, I wanted to ask Alan about his drinking.

He told me that both his parents were alcoholics

and he's known nothing else.

I can remember it so well. My first drink...

was half a pint of wine. Huh!

Half a pint of white wine.

After about 10 minutes, it took effect and I thought, "Ooh!"

So I had some more white wine and that was it.

Alan's swollen and painful joints are a symptom of gout,

which is linked to excessive drinking.

And there have been times

when he was consuming 700 units of alcohol a week.

The highest recorded amount of units per week by my nurse,

which, working out, is 15 litres of white cider a day.

To be honest, I'm not very proud of it, really.

In fact, I'm quite surprised I'm still here, really.

Now the cold is making his joint pains even worse

and it's becoming ever more pressing that Alan gets off the streets

and into the flat he's been promised.

But then Alan has a knock-back.

I'm just a bit annoyed, you know.

I should've moved in by now but there's been a bit of a mix-up.

At the Cyrenians,

he's trying to find out if he will still be getting the flat.

I went to the meeting this morning.

Obviously, we've got to do everything we can to get you housed

in the short time before Christmas, because I know that's your goal.

But we're still working on it at the moment.

It's all right. Don't worry about it. We'll get something sorted.

-It's just trying to get it all done as soon as we can.

-Sure.

For now, Alan just has to wait.

Christmas is coming but the recession is hitting the charities

on which the homeless depend hard.

For most Christmas shoppers, money is tight.

I wanted to find out about one of the guys

who'd had a run-in with the police.

Tell us where you're originally from, Paul.

I was born in Salford, Manchester in 1963.

Erm, I grew, I grew up in Stretford, went to school in Stretford.

Got beaten up and abused by my father.

Run away from home, 14th birthday. Never been home since.

I just keep wandering round the country.

Paul's just come across the Severn Bridge.

He told me he'd actually walked much of the way.

Tell us how you ended up in Swansea.

Erm, I was in Bristol for a while.

Decided I needed a change,

somewhere I'd not been to for a long, long time.

I heard some good things about Swansea.

Things have changed, obviously. So I ended up here.

I've got no bills, no responsibilities.

All I've got to look after is me.

Three days later, Paul allowed me to film him first thing in the morning.

It's 7.30am, it's still dark and it's freezing.

He's laid claim to one of the most sought-after locations

for sleeping rough.

It's dry and no-one passes through.

Good morning, Chris.

HE COUGHS

Many times I should've died of hypothermia or something, many times.

I've slept on boats, Brighton beach in winter.

Erm, eight weeks under a boat. That was cold.

Paul carries more kit than anyone else I met on Swansea's streets.

It's all useful gear but he can't leave it here or anywhere.

Gotta keep the burglars out, haven't you?

He might be a newcomer to Swansea

but he's already worked out where to get free meals and a shower.

Morning, ladies.

There's my ladies.

HE LAUGHS

He heads to Zac's, the early morning port-of-call for rough sleepers.

Here they offer warmth and a free breakfast

for all of Swansea's homeless.

HE GROANS That's better.

-I see you're sat outside, Paul. Why's that?

-I always do.

I don't like the... I don't like enclosed spaces.

If I've had a few beers and that, it doesn't really bother me.

I don't care who's shouting or whatever.

But, you know, first thing in the morning, "Go away and leave me alone.

"Let me have my fag and coffee and wake up."

It's a good life, really.

If you can handle it, I suppose.

As the weather gets colder, the hot meals dished up at the Cyrenians

are a godsend for all kinds of people down on their luck.

But Alan's heading to the Cyrenians for a different reason.

He still doesn't know if he'll get into his flat before Christmas.

Sorry about all the confusion

but after our meeting this morning

we've decided that the best place for you would be the new building.

That's excellent.

-It's even better than excellent because it...

-Oh, God.

-It's just perfect.

-Yeah.

-So no wild parties now, Al.

-Aw, come on!

I won't make it too loud but there will be a party!

Before Alan can take on the tenancy, the staff give him a tour.

-Got to get my key.

-Thank you.

-The fobs are separated.

-Yeah.

-They both open the front door.

-OK.

This is the shared living room and lounge.

It's a brand new apartment he'll share with one other.

Bloody nice, innit?

-That one opens this.

-Look at that!

-That's it for the flat, really, the building.

-Fantastic, innit.

Everything about it is just...

I'm starting to get a bit overwhelmed, really.

Yeah, Christmas. Brand new flat.

Huh! I can't believe it.

But Alan just has to get through one more weekend before he moves in.

At one of the soup and sandwich runs, the ladies from a local church

are on duty and Paul the drifter turns up for the very first time.

-I wouldn't mind some coffee in mine.

-Coffee.

-Would you like sugar with your coffee?

-Two, please, love.

-Paul Bell, my name is.

-Paul Bell.

-Yeah. I'm feral.

You know the word feral? What does that mean?

Is that a sweater? Fair Isle?

It means you live off the land.

-So where are you from? You're not from Wales, are you?

-No.

No. You couldn't afford to be in Wales. I'm from Manchester.

-Manchester.

-Yeah. Born and bred.

-What's brought you down this way, then?

-You lovely Welsh ladies.

Anything tonight I cannot complain about.

If I could I would, but I can't.

Coffee's cold, but what the hell? It's a good thing.

Alan's moving into his own home

and he's doing his first domestic shop in years.

I mean, you wouldn't be getting shopping on the streets.

Leave the butter out, it'd probably get frozen overnight.

Once I get used to this shop I'll be all right.

It's getting used to the shop.

Usually he's heading straight for this aisle.

I'm staying away from it today.

-Hiya, It's Alan. Hoping to get in.

-OK.

-All right, OK.

Right. There you go.

Today he has to meet the staff to go through the tenancy agreement.

Alan will have to stick to the house rules that forbid

any unreasonable behaviour.

It's a lot to take in.

Is that actually... No, that's fixed in.

I haven't sat on it yet, actually.

Oh. Ha-ha! Mm.

Yeah. I could get used to that!

Better than cardboard. A lot better than cardboard.

Helena, who ended up becoming homeless

because of a marriage breakdown, also has news.

I've finally been offered a hostel place at Dinas Fechan.

I've got the support I need to sort of get on, get back on track.

Dinas Fechan is a hostel run by one of Wales'

biggest homeless charities.

-Helena!

-Hi.

-How are you, all right?

-Surviving.

Do you want the good news? You've got a room.

Thank you.

The hostel has 15 beds and is one of four for the homeless in Swansea.

Well, it's like sort of going back to being an undergraduate student.

It's like going back 20 years or something.

Somewhere to hang up my coat.

I've got people around me and a support network so it's, erm,

hopefully an end to the exasperations.

Hopefully, the worst is over, now.

Three nights ago I was in a train tunnel

underneath Swansea train station

and now I've got a garden to overlook

and all mod cons, so it's looking, it's looking hopeful.

But getting off the streets isn't usually this straightforward.

Shortly after Alan moved into his flat, he invited everyone

round for a party and it got seriously out of control.

As a result, he was asked to leave.

I feel really bad about what's happened because, obviously,

you know, I think I upset the staff as well.

But I just found it really hard to go from being on the streets

to somewhere as new as that.

I couldn't cope with it, really.

Alan's now been moved to more suitable accommodation

that can give him 24/7 support.

And with all the stress, he's drinking more.

Alan has few people to turn to and he's lost touch with all his family.

Lost my dad, lost my brother, lost, lost our mother.

Lost everyone.

For anyone with a drink problem,

Christmas is a real challenge.

In Wales, seasonal drinking

escalates to almost double that of the rest of the year.

And it's the same story for those on the street,

but they drink to escape the realities of their lives.

You've got to get out of that depressing business.

-I know, I know what you're saying.

-I can't. I can't do that.

But you have to snap out of it. I've done it.

You've got a flat. You can't sit there, feeling sorry for yourself.

Look at me, for fuck's sake. I'm a happy chappy. Keep on chuckling.

That's all I've got to say, man. Keep on chuckling.

But this heart to heart is short lived.

Oh, come on.

Don't have a go at me. It's my daughter's birthday.

Is this alcohol?

Alan is still learning to cope with life indoors

and I've had my eyes opened to how getting off the streets

can be as fraught as life on the streets.

Next time, it's Christmas,

and there are still people sleeping rough on Swansea's streets.

I wonder what happened to the star.

There's desperation for those facing the prospect

of sleeping rough over Christmas.

Georgica gets the emergency bed for almost a week.

-Tonight, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday.

-Tuesday.

-Five days.

-Wow!

-Six o'clock, yeah? OK?

-Thank you very much!

-No problem, mate.

-Take care.

-Merry Christmas, my friend.

HE SINGS

Ha-ha! Bye-bye, Chris!