Two years ago, I worked for the NHS. People stood outside the doors of their homes and clapped for me. Now people drive past my home and honk. They sound their horns in the early hours of the morning and in the later hours of an evening hoping to wake me, to distress me, to communicate their displeasure that I am here in Cornwall, living in a van.
I could drive after these beepers to explain my situation politely and ask them to stop, but I thought it would be easier to write this article.