It is a regular weekday morning in Hobart, and the city's popular Rivulet Park track is busy with pedestrians and cyclists.
Key points:
- Tasha and Tyson set up the camp along Hobart's CBD Rivulet Park track after the car they were living in broke down
- Locals donated tarpaulins after recent rain, but the tents are old and need constant repairs
- The campers list personal safety and the security of their belongings as key concerns
Few seemed to have noticed the campsite that has popped up off to the side of the track in recent months — but the campsite's residents are keenly aware of those on the track.
"It was embarrassing for the first few weeks out here," Tasha said.
"I'd run into the tent … trying not to be seen.
"I got to the stage where I just can't keep doing it. So I just sit here and chill now."
Tasha and her partner Tyson established the campsite a few months ago when the car they were living in broke down.
"We spent three days walking, which killed us," she said.
"Non-stop walking to try and find somewhere that was accessible to the city and showers, which is here."
The spot is far from private, but the couple said being partly in the open offered a sense of security, and it was a short walk into town.
"It's not ideal; we don't want to be parked in people's faces as much as they don't want to see us here of a morning. But where else are we going to go?" Tasha asked.
The couple is joined on and off by others also living rough.
For the past two months, that has included Brooke* and Anthony.
"I was actually in a tent by myself before here, but it's just not safe enough," Brooke said.
"I couldn't leave everything and go anywhere because I don't know if it's going to be there when I come back.
"I actually went to the op shop and bought a pair of men's boots and used to sit them outside the tent so it looked like a man was in the tent."
Brooke ended up homeless after fleeing a family violence situation. That was about eight months ago.
Since then, she has spent four months on the street and four in prison.
When the option for bail came up, she did not even apply, explaining it was simpler to stay in prison "and be cared for".
She has been out for two months.
"The daily things that you take for granted; washing, showering, cooking, just basic everyday human needs are hard to meet," she explained.
"Your day's just filled up with your daily routine of getting your food for that day... where you're going to wash your clothes or have your shower."
The closest showers are in a multi-level car park, about a 15-minute walk away through the city.
The campers use toilets at a nearby venue when they can, but their possessions are always at risk.
"Some days, it's a matter of taking shifts," Brooke said.
"We don't want to leave the whole place unattended because we're not sure what's going to happen because we can't secure anything."
Food is a daily problem.
There is little room to store it, no proper cooking facilities, and things go off fast.
Anthony said it could be "just easier to go back to jail".
"You've got food; you have a roof over your head; you've got dry clothes, dry blankets."
It is something he said he had thought about "plenty of times" – and he is not alone.
"There are crimes I could commit as a means of survival to make life easier, and if I was to be caught, then yeah, life's easier [in prison]," said Brooke.
Summer has just ended, and the weather in Hobart is still warm, but the group is already bracing for the colder months.
It rained recently, and members of the public donated tarpaulins to help make the tents more waterproof.
What they really need are new tents and, in an ideal world, a car.
When Tyson had transport, he worked as a scaffolder on public housing projects, but that became impossible when the car broke down.
"If we had a car, I could just be in the car during the day," Tasha said.
"A car leads to everything. It leads to a job, which leads to money, which leads to a house."
For Tasha, housing would mean more contact with her daughters, who now live with their dad and only get to see her in the daytime or if she pays for a night's accommodation.
"My nine-year-old just turned around and said, 'I never imagined our life to be like this', and it really hit home," Tasha said.
"People just need to understand it might be them one day.
"It doesn't mean they're a bad person. A little bit of help and thought for others goes a long, long way."
Brooke wants any politician who is game to sit down and talk with her.
"How about listen to us? Have a talk to us, the people that are in this situation," she said.
"We're people; we're good people, we're honest people and just doing our best to get by.
"We're not necessarily looking for a handout, just a hand."
*Name has been changed