Daily Echo out with St Mungo's workers in Bournemouth

Experience tells them where their clients are most likely to be, but they also rely on information phoned in from the public via StreetLink – the service which lets people contact the team with details of rough sleepers they may be worried about.

“Some callers give us great information, very detailed, even down to the colour of the person's sleeping bag,” says David.

Our first port of call is the back of the Dalkeith Steps. It’s dark, cold, wet and terrifying to think of even standing alone in this area, let alone sleep. Luckily they find no one.

As we plod to the top floor of the Richmond Hill multi-storey, David explains that the whole point of these daily visits – which will take place all over Christmas – is to engage with homeless people.

Engagement can be as simple as ‘hello’. But, says David: “If you keep going back, hello becomes a coffee, then coffee can become a conversation and you can go on from there.”

Conversation is very important as it helps establish rapport, information about the type of help a person may need, and a glimpse of what might be the way forward.

And, despite the public’s erroneous view that nothing is being done to help street homeless – probably because most of those who complain are tucked up in bed at the ungodly hour we are out – it appears there are almost too many agencies to mention.

David reels off a list which includes Addaction, an addictions and mental help service, the Community Mental Health Team, a podiatry clinic for bad feet, a drop in centre at St Stephen's Church Hall in the town centre, multifarious branches of the housing department, probation, and the armed forces helping organisations for ex-Military.

The list is endless and doesn’t include all the charities helping homeless folk in the Bournemouth, Christchurch and Poole conurbations, such as the Helping Hands Project.

However, as David and Ella point out, no one can be removed from the streets against their will or forced to engage with any organisation if they don’t want to, if they are not breaking the law.

And Michael is a case in point.

He is sleeping along with two other men at the top of a stairwell in the Richmond Hill multi-storey.

While Ella sits on the cold floor and chats to a newly homeless man and his friend, gathering as much information as she can, David engages with Michael whom he has known for a few months.

Everyone’s reasons for being on the streets are personal, but Michael’s story is as good – and terrible - as any in explaining just why homelessness is such a complicated issue.

He's a heroin addict who came to Bournemouth from London after being released from the address he reckons he's spent more time in than anywhere else – Pentonville Prison.

“I’ve been in and out of prison all my adult life,” he admits. “When that happens it’s hard to get work. When you don’t have an address or a bank account it’s even harder.”

The reason for this tragic situation becomes obvious when he describes his childhood.

“To be honest I didn’t have the best start, some people weren’t all dealt the same cards in life,” he says. “I didn’t have good role models; I was surrounded by older people who took drugs and sold drugs.”

He’s been taking drugs for 30 years and is ‘sick of them’. “It’s true, the drugs don’t work,” he says. “They destroy you, there is no comfort or joy in them, just misery.”

He’s managed to get down from 10 to two bags a day – an estimable result – but David gently tries to persuade him to speak to Addaction. Michael is not keen. “I don’t want a script, they give you a script,” he insists, before adding that he believes people like him ‘have to do it for themselves’.

Unperturbed, David talks to him about his health and when Michael mentions the blisters on his feet, which he says he cuts off with a Stanley knife – leaving him at risk of sepsis – David reminds him that they have a podiatry clinic where a nurse will tend to him. Michael looks unsure.

Because he is from London and not this area, different rules apply to the assistance that can be given but David doesn't give up. If he can get a timeline from Michael of his life and where he’s lived, there are concessions that may work in his favour.

Gently David teases from Michael the name of his London probation office and probation officer. This, he explains later, is an important step in working out how Michael can be best helped.

We're interrupted by the cheery security guard who knows the man and alerts us to a further two sleepers in the next stairwell.

They appear to be a couple, with the woman furious about her Universal Credit claim. After checking on them David and Ella move on.

As we walk down Old Christchurch Road they chat to a lady who sleeps in a doorway. They buy her a coffee – doorways are freezing and they are concerned about her mental health - and arrange to meet her later. It’s a good result.

In McDonalds they spot another couple of familiar faces who are enjoying a quiet coffee. Then we cross the road to check on another doorway sleeper who just wants to be left alone.

Three sleepers in Bournemouth square are approached: “They’ve never really engaged with us but we always try,” says David. As their dog snarls viciously, we quietly leave.

The BIC car-park sees four clients, sleeping in the stairwells, one of which has a blood spatter - probably from an addict's injection gone wrong. David and Ella chat and continue to subtly outline the help available, discussing the progress of Universal Credit claims and other assistance. They know all the clients' names but constantly ask for phone numbers, or an idea of where they’ll be at a certain time, so they can fetch them, if needs be, to medical, mental health or housing appointments. Again and again they insert offers of help into their conversation.

Bournemouth Pier has one sleeper but he waves them away.

On Westover Road there are several, including a gentleman whose mental health they are concerned for. He has accommodation lined up for him but ‘it could be several weeks’. If they can prove his mental health is deteriorating, they may be able to speed things up.

As it is, they must return to their office in Old Christchurch Road to write up their notes on every engagement they’ve had today, plus details of the new rough-sleeper who they are very keen to assist.

“The rest of our day will be spent at the St Stephen’s drop-in and on the phone to the agencies we work with, sorting out appointments, making inquiries and trying to move things on,” says Ella. “Our aim is to progress everything a bit further each day.”

On the walk back we pass Horseshoe Common and the little shrine to rough sleeper Carl Lancelot, who died earlier this month.

It’s a poignant reminder of everything they are working so hard to prevent and why the work they do – which can be almost invisible to the rest of us -, is so very vital.

*Reports concerns about homeless people to StreetLink - phone 0300 500 0914. If you'd like to volunteer with St Mungo's contact stmungos.org