In Photos: Bristol’s homeless

As homelessness spirals in Bristol and the council clamps down on rough sleepers taking to tents in the city’s parks, one man has been chronicling some of the lives behind the headlines.

Taking pictures on his iPhone, James Koch attempts to tell some of the stories of the rising number of people who find themselves without a home in the city.

“These are my observations and the stories as told to me by the people in shot,” James says. “The photos are taken with permission. I share their stories in good faith though I cannot verify them.

“All I can say for sure is that at this moment they were vulnerable on the streets of Bristol. None of the people in shot were high or drunk at the time, as far as I could tell.”

Clive from Caerphilly. He’d been on Whiteladies Road for a few weeks. Orphaned at four, he has since suffered abuse in foster care and has preferred to sleep rough. Alone. His message says: “It’s got colder at night now, could you help me get a hostel please. Any spare change. Eighteen pounds, one week. Thanks. No-one cares.”

David from Carlisle. He tells me he’s been on the move for 26 years, busking for a living. We’d had a long chat – I think David was happy for the company. As I left him sat on the bench I wondered what he was thinking now as he sat alone.

James the hobo. James is still on the go. He tells me he lives off three hours sleep. Hard to verify of course, but it’s cold, it’s late – too much so for me and the pigeons looking down from above.

Llewelyn and John. Sub zero in the belly of the beast – Bristol’s bearpit.

Boy outside The Best shop on Stokes Croft. We shared a cigarette.

Modestas Primantas. Modistas has been in the UK for 18 years. Originally from Lithuania, he’s worked full time as a builder for 16 of these years before his epilepsy became uncontrollable. He’s been on the streets for two years. He has been told he’s not entitled to benefits. He seems to feel as anonymous as the seven-digit hospital number on his wrist “2132232”.

Clive. I stopped to sit and speak with Clive. He’s sober. The girl curled up next to him, face covered by the blanket. They share murmurs as he fidgets, exposing a face full of sores. I’m told by Clive that he’s watching out for her while her fella grifts for food. Clive’s a former social worker. He tells me of a guy in his care whose liver exploded and blood gushed from his mouth as life passed. Right before him. Clive’s words are a book of blood, faith, the devil, self defence. At what point a quiet man must stand up for himself? How Bristol is cold (it is tonight) and cold-hearted – he wants to leave this place.

Lee, Lisa and Buster. Bristol, via Newport – they’ve found it it difficult finding accommodation with Buster (their 11-year-old dog), but are determined to stay together. They now sleep in a multi-storey car park.

Ian was a crane operator who was made redundant. His landlord threw him out after two weeks of him being unable to pay rent. A blood clot in his left leg resulted in its amputation. He now has two blood clots in his right leg. If they hit his femoral vein he’ll lose that leg too. 

Boy with a t-shirt. It’s bitterly cold out, but the boy (whose name I forget) seems accustomed to it. He busks, he smokes. A lady who he doesn’t know leans in to say hello and gives him some tobacco. They share a smile.

David from Carlisle. David shows me some of his masked robotics routine. He’ll busk for money tomorrow.

Man on Stokes Croft. A fleeting exchange.

Boy by St Andrew’s Park. The boy was leaving the park with a trolley of possessions and a tent. I presume he had been sleeping there – as many did in tents or the open air over summer – but can’t be sure. He didn’t look much over 18.

John from Merthyr. It’s cold and exposed on the temporary walkway over the Prince Street Bridge, but John feels safer here than in the centre (and less likely to get moved on by police). He’s from Merthyr Tydfil. We shared South Wales stories (he knows Maesteg, where many of my family live) yet now he’s here and probably too late to get a bed at the shelter which opens its doors at 9.30pm. Usually folk are queuing from 4pm, such is the increase in homelessness and lack of resources. If John sleeps rough he has a sleeping bag and a funky blanket. It could be a long night.

James Koch is a photographer and co-founder of The Gallimaufry who has lived in Bristol for 16 years. Read about his 10 practical ways you can help Bristol’s homeless.