Transcript:
Every time I say it, I’m in disbelief, but it’s three and a half years. Three and a half years.
One of London’s biggest and most expensive houses, but the only person who lives here is a homeless man.
In Knightsbridge, one of the city’s most exclusive postcodes, you’ll find high-end hotels, luxury shopping, and the unlikely figure of Anders Fernstedt. But how did he get here, and why is he allowed to stay? And how exactly does he live like this?
And I just thought, you know, it would be a shelter for the night. I’m an avid camper, like an amateur botanist, you know, I’m not afraid of nature.
It’s more my, my Mongolian yurt or my Gaddafi tent, or my Turkish tent, or something like that, because my, my conceit when I started was that sort of the fake dream, oh, I’m just a boy, my parents are in the house, everything’s normal, I just asked them for permission to camp on the balcony.
This is in a way a squirrel’s nut collection. I have so many nuts that I won’t notice when something disappears.
Here on seven layers of Hungarian down, so a duvet collection, that I haven’t had a bad night’s sleep as far as I can remember. And that goes for four seasons. There’s not cold in the winter, and now because I, because I don’t have walls, right? So, so I get an air breeze. I knew I have to orient myself to a way of living so that when I put my head down, I fall asleep.
So I’m very lucky in that sense, and I’ve kind of been, you know, when I, when I gauge if I’m, you know, happy or okay and so on, I look at the pillow in the morning and the sheets, it’s all twisted up, I know I’m a bit twisted up.
The house at 2 to 8A Rutland Gate sold for 210 million pounds, almost 250 million euros to a Chinese businessman in 2020. But he never moved in after the collapse of his property business, and the house remains a frozen asset. It has 45 rooms, marble bathrooms, views over Hyde Park with 116 windows and an indoor swimming pool. But no one goes in.
This is a very sophisticated neighborhood. I, I’d stayed for a few weeks. I knew everybody knew that I was here. And I thought, so how can I, uh, sort of convey my presence without being present? And I thought, well, my constituency has to be the neighbor’s children and grandchildren. Because if they plead my case at the kitchen table, my prospects improve.
Sometimes they introduce themselves asking what might I want or need, and my stock answer has been, well, what you just gave me. A little bit of normal time, right? And a little neighborly banter.
What’s given to me, it’s, it’s sometimes it’s food, very elegant Italian dinner jacket clothes have arrived on a few occasions. Juxtapose that with where do I shower and how do I get the basics?
Because on weekdays, there’s a charity that’s near Victoria that provides showers and they have a canteen and then they also have like a charity shop without at no cost. So they get donations, so you can always get the basics, the socks and the rest and the occasional, you know, Christmas gift.
This basically is my everyday, uh, you know, the burden of my existence. So about, yeah, five, six, seven, eight battery banks, and now I can download an infinite number of books. So Tarkovsky’s diaries, history books, and these are just the ones that I’ve downloaded to the phone. The English have this radio program called Desert Island Discs. Well, here I am, a shipwreck.
Anders’ life of power banks, makeshift shelters, and floral displays has not always been like this. He was raised by his mother in Sweden before embarking on a range of careers at home and in the US, making a name for himself in the tech world. In 2016, he moved to England, where he worked as a journalist right up until the time of the COVID pandemic.
A share in a tech company from his days in the US gave Anders a nest egg he relied on, but it couldn’t last forever.
Now, now I’m a freelance, now I’m just waiting for my commission, and the waiting commences. I haven’t given any justification for being canceled or anything like that, and then circumstances have sort of intruded and so on.
There was enough money for me to live off for a few years, but very only frugally. Half time in a tent. In that sense, I’m a boil frog syndrome. So I slowly got used to frugality that I didn’t even notice when I stopped having money.
Perhaps in this contemporary world, biggest curiosity about my lifestyle is I’m, I’m completely off money. But basically my only expense, filter coffee, brew, brew coffee.
Anders finally feels safe in his home he’s built himself. It’s something he doesn’t take for granted after previous experiences in temporary accommodation.
So I no longer really worried that I’ll cycle around the corner and everything will be gone. Because I’ve been here so long, I’m free of worry now. And if we worry too much, we won’t be happy.
How much do you need to be happy? Tell us in the comments.
| in disbelief | hitetlenkedve; alig hiszi el |
| exclusive postcode | előkelő környék, elit negyed |
| high-end | luxus-, csúcskategóriás |
| unlikely figure | meglepő, váratlan alak |
| avid | lelkes, szenvedélyes |
| yurt | jurta |
| conceit | (itt) elképzelés, kiinduló ötlet |
| down | pehely, pihe (toll) |
| duvet | paplan |
| that goes for … | ugyanez érvényes …-ra/-re |
| breeze | szellő |
| to gauge | felmérni, megítélni |
| twisted up | összegubancolódott; (átv.) zaklatott |
| to move in | beköltözni |
| collapse | összeomlás |
| frozen asset | befagyasztott vagyon(tárgy) |
| sophisticated | kifinomult, előkelő |
| to convey | közvetíteni, kifejezni |
| constituency | (itt) támogatói kör; (eredetileg) választókerület |
| to plead sy’s case | kiállni valaki mellett, közbenjárni valakiért |
| prospects | kilátások, esélyek |
| stock answer | szokásos, bevett válasz |
| banter | évődés, ugratás, könnyed csevegés |
| dinner jacket | szmoking |
| on a few occasions | néhány alkalommal |
| to juxtapose | szembeállítani, egymás mellé állítani |
| charity | jótékonysági szervezet |
| canteen | étkezde, menza |
| charity shop | jótékonysági (használtcikk-)bolt |
| donations | adományok |
| burden | teher |
| infinite | végtelen |
| shipwreck | (itt) hajótörött; hajótörés |
| makeshift shelter | rögtönzött, ideiglenes menedék |
| floral display | virágdísz, virágkompozíció |
| to be raised | felnevelkedni (valaki által) |
| to embark on sg | belevágni, belekezdeni valamibe |
| to make a name for oneself | nevet szerezni magának |
| share | részesedés, részvény |
| nest egg | tartalék, félretett pénz |
| to rely on | támaszkodni, számítani valamire |
| commission | megbízás |
| to commence | elkezdődni, megkezdődni |
| justification | indoklás, igazolás |
| to intrude | közbejönni, beleavatkozni |
| to live off sg | megélni valamiből |
| frugally | takarékosan, szerényen |
| boiling frog syndrome | „főtt béka” szindróma (a lassú változást nem vesszük észre) |
| frugality | takarékosság, igénytelenség |
| contemporary | mai, kortárs |
| to be off money | pénz nélkül élni |
| expense | kiadás |
| to brew | főzni, lefőzni (kávét, teát) |
| to take sg for granted | természetesnek venni valamit |
| temporary accommodation | ideiglenes szállás |
| free of worry | gondtalan, aggodalom nélküli |