Our sleeping pitch is targeted
In yesterday’s blog I wrote that for two days a cleaner has been arriving at the place we sleep in at night at 4.00am, twenty minutes before we get up – since 7 September we have been sleeping tucked away, about twenty paces from the side entrance of a building, down some twelve steps; prior to that we slept for almost two years in a porch – and when yesterday he came out with a hose to fill a bucket of water above us as we were packing to leave, we wondered if we were in for at least the wetting we got on 3 November (see blog “State Stem Cell Policies Deserve National Attention”). Alas, when last night we returned to the sleeping pitch we found that the dim bulbs in the spotlights above us had been replaced with very powerful ones. The down-light is so bright it feels like sleeping under the search light of a low-flying police helicopter.
We find it all a bit odd, especially since communications started out cordial between us and employees: we were visited by an employee within days, and on three occasions we have been given food. Also, according to the website of the company that owns the building, they are well respected and not only fund raise for science education (Declan’s petition to the UN on research cloning of embryos and stem cells has been signed by 581 scientists and academics, including 24 Nobel Laureates), but run a project for the homeless.
Nonetheless, we are staying put. We have little appetite for spending another nine hours looking for an alternative place to sleep. And I most certainly do not have to be reminded of the eventful two years in the porch, despite it being located in London’s financial district (I slept on the outside, Declan on the inside with our well-tied bags): for example, within two weeks somebody sat on the right hand side of my face (see blog of 18 November 2006); I was dragged out of the two-step porch by the ankles while I was in my sleeping bag, then a few hours later I was kicked in the back (see blog of 5 May 2007); a guy repeatedly kicked me in the chest and shoulders as his mates stood by (see blog of 22 September 2007); and I was urinated on (see blog of 2 August). Declan was also jumped on, feet first, as he slept in the porch, and was especially fortunate not to have bones broken (see blog of 14 June).
As I stated in yesterday’s blog, we will seek to make a statement in our local police station should this situation get out of hand. Of course, in addition to washing us out with a hose, there is always the option of soaking the shelter to ensure we can’t bed down. In the latter instance, we are undecided if we will sleep anywhere nearby for the night and, should the police insist we move on, I take the arrest as I did on 11 September (see blog “I am arrested for breach of the peace”). As I stated in the blog of 13 September “Letter from the City of London Police”, I am well prepared to have the legality of such an arrest tested under the Human Rights Act 1998, and even on appeal, if necessary.