Ask Chris what the worst thing is about sleeping rough and he will tell you it is the need for constant vigilance.
Those of us with houses, heatpumps and jobs would be tempted to think of the cold, the rain, the hunger. But Chris knows better. Gangs, prisons, drugs, boarding houses and sleeping rough - across the gamut of disadvantage and harsh reality, his softly-spoken voice is one of experience.
Sixty-years-old, recently released from prison, now on the priority waiting list for Dunedin City Council social housing, Chris has seven years' experience living on the streets.
"It's a hard life. You've gotta be alert all the time ... It's stressful,'' he says.
"Even if you find yourself a little bush ... You'll get others who come along looking for trouble.
"It's hard being out there by yourself.''
Property prices have risen more than 14% during the past year; the largest percentage rise of all the country's main centres. With a median price tag of $449,023, Dunedin houses are now 5.7-times the median household income, making it officially unaffordable by some international measures.
When buying a house becomes difficult, rental prices climb, too. The average weekly rental in Dunedin is now more than $400.
Competition for rentals is fierce. Prospective tenants are being asked to fill out vetting forms that resemble job application documents. It is not uncommon for dozens of hopefuls to turn up to rental property viewings.
The waiting list for Dunedin City Council's 936 community housing units has climbed to 251 people. But the need is larger than that. The stock of social housing in the city is estimated to be between 440 and 650 households in arrears.
Another step down the ladder, Dunedin has an estimated 800 boarding house beds. Despite the large supply of bottom-tier housing, the demand is larger still. One day last week, a landlord with several boarding house properties, who has a reputation for never turning anyone away, said no to four people seeking rooms - because he had none available.
The squeeze, pushing towards a crisis, has come from several directions.
Dunedin's population has been growing faster in recent years than it has in decades. Internal migration and refugee resettlement has seen the city grow by about 1500 people a year since 2013. It's population now tops 130,000. That will likely only increase as the hospital construction gets going.
At the same time that a growing populace has increased demand, lack of available land, resource consent process issues, the sell-down of Housing New Zealand stock and the poor condition of social housing generally has tightened the supply-side screws.
They are the canary in the mine.
Here, the reports of overcrowding, couch surfing and sleeping rough abound.
Carol Frost is operations director at the Dunedin Night Shelter. Last year, the Lees St emergency housing provided 865 bed nights. Each week, on average, the shelter registered five new people on its books.
Frost is not easily fazed. She has been in education and community service all her working life. Before the night shelter, she worked at prisoner reintegration service Pars Otago.
She has seen it all, except the housing situation her clients now face, which she says is new and alarming.
In the past two years, the situation has changed dramatically for the worse, she says.
"There are a lot of boarding houses, but they are all full. Occasionally you can get a room. But when you do, it's often beyond the means of our people,'' Frost says.
The typical boarding house room will have a bed with no bedding. Sometimes there is a chair or a dressing table. Typically, the cheapest ones have no floor covering, holes in the floor, no heating and a door that is either broken or simply not there.
"You wouldn't put a dog in it.
At least it is a roof over their heads. But it is no longer affordable. Frost says.
Almost all of the shelter's clients are on a welfare benefit. That is about $217 a week, plus, if you can find a room, an accommodation allowance of up to $80 a week.
But the cheapest boarding house is $195 per week. The most expensive is about $260. Power is often, but not always, included.
"Two years ago, you could get a really nice room for $150. Now it's $250.''
Depending on the state of your boarding house room, that leaves $37 to $102 a week for all other expenses, including food and transport.
What people forget is that homeless people are just like everyone else, they have debts, Frost says.
"If they've been in prison they have reparation, they have fines and they've invariably got child support. And all that gets taken out before they get their $217.
"So, the accommodation is just too damn expensive. I don't know how we get around it.''
"Some are choosing to sleep rough rather than starve.''
She estimates about 30 people in Dunedin are sleeping rough; in bushes, behind buildings, beneath bridges ...
Many hundreds of the city's most vulnerable citizens have mental health issues. Plenty have been prescribed medication.
"Often, because they don't have the money, they don't go and get their medication.
"That's when the problems start.
"But how can you help someone who needs more than just a pill? They need a lot of help around them.
"People don't understand that homelessness is linked very clearly to mental health. It's so very stressful to have nowhere to go. It's a terribly lonely place. If you are homeless, people don't talk to you.''
The dire housing situation faced by those most in need is corroborated by Servants Health Centre clinic leader Beth Stitely and Pars Otago manager Juan Kinnear.
The Christian-based free health centre has 375 clients on its books.
"The number one social issue we see here is the need for accommodation,'' Stitely says.
She estimates that many of the centre's clients have about $35 a week for food and transport after housing and other costs are deducted.
"I know of someone who is planning to live in his car because he can't afford a place to stay.''
Kinnear says the housing situation has become much tougher during the past 12 months and is hurting people.
Pars Otago has about 30 clients at any one time, scattered across a dozen rooms it rents as well as other accommodation it arranges. It has the budget for an additional four or five beds, but cannot find suitable property.
"Our people often struggle to get a long-term address,'' Kinnear says.
"They gravitate to the bottom of the list because they are competing with families and people with steady jobs.''
The dearth of housing is slowly strangling the organisation's ability to help more people.
"The stream of people is slowing. If they can't get long-term accommodation, then they stay on our books.''
That prevents Pars taking on new clients.
"We don't make people homeless, we simply don't do that.''
Kinnear says it might also be resulting in people spending longer in prison.
The Parole Board takes multiple factors into consideration, including whether an inmate has suitable accommodation arranged, in deciding whether they are released or serve their full term.
"There are occasions when we are asked to provide addresses and we are unable to do that because of a lack of supply.''
He says Pars Otago staff are sensitive to the implications of its clients being made homeless.
"And there is a community safety aspect to that, too.''
Chris has had a life none of us would want. But he admits his bad choices have also cost him.
"I had a Housing Corp house three and a-half years ago. I blew that chance.
"I was a late learner. I had to go to jail to learn.''
Each time, he has learnt some more. He is determined to make better decisions.
Where you live plays a big role in that, he says.
For the past four months, Chris has been living at Phoenix Lodge, the Dunedin Night Shelter's transitional housing facility.
He is on the methadone programme and doing well reintegrating, despite needing to walk with a crutch while he waits for a hip replacement. He hopes to get into a suitable Dunedin City Council social housing flat.
Fortunately, he is on the priority waiting list. Unfortunately, there are 100 people ahead of him.
Frost says for the first time in her career, she feels hopeless.
``I don't know what to do.
``I've never really felt like that before.''
But she is not looking for sympathy for herself or her clients.
"I'm not asking people to feel sorry for these people. What I'm asking for is a solution.
"You can feel sorry all you like, but that's not going to get them a house, a bed, somewhere to call home.''
Surely, urgent action is needed.
Fingers are being pointed in several directions.
Aaron Hawkins says the housing situation is bad and help is needed, but he is not sure it is a crisis yet.
"I don't know enough to say if the current supply of emergency housing is adequate. One of the urgent things we need to get a handle on is the scale of our local homeless population,'' the chairman of the Mayor's Taskforce for Housing says.
That would be done through the Housing Needs Assessment, which will be carried out if city councillors grant $130,000 a year for two years to implement the Taskforce's recommendations. That decision will be made later this month. The needs assessment would feed into funding decisions being debated in a couple of years' time.
Hawkins wants council to do more to identify and aid the development of land for affordable rental accommodation.
He also thinks council should reconsider its own approach to social housing, including whether rents should continue to be set on a cost recovery basis and whether the focus on older people's housing should be broadened.
He wants to meet government ministers to advocate for an increase in the $80 accommodation supplement.
"MSD ... reviewed that reasonably recently and were comfortable an $80 cap was appropriate in Dunedin. Which seems to be counter to everything that we're seeing in terms of the increased cost of market rents.
"It seems like a fairly simple thing the Government could do to make affordable housing more of a reality for more people in Dunedin.''
To that end, he hopes an audience with ministers will be granted sometime in the next six weeks to six months.
Council needs to pressure the Government to fund more community housing, Hawkins says.
Through its Public Housing Plan, the Government has committed to fund 55 new units in the city during a four-year period that ends in mid-2022. Those can be a mix of Housing New Zealand builds and partnerships with private developers.
"One of the biggest goals we have is working with community housing providers and developers to get that allocation exhausted as quickly as possible, so we can pressure Government for the greater levels of support we know our community needs,'' Hawkins says.
But that is likely to be a couple of years off.
A Housing New Zealand spokesman says six houses have been built and another 19 will be built by the middle of next year. Seven of those 19 will be on sites where houses will be demolished to make way for new builds.
Another nine are in the pipeline for the year to mid-2021.
Beyond that, a further 36 houses are planned or being considered, the spokesman said.
Hawkins does not know of any partnerships with private developers as part of that scheme.
Dunedin South MP Clare Curran said she was not invited to be part of the Mayor's Housing Taskforce despite having held meetings with social agencies for the past two and a-half years to grapple with the city's housing issues.
She believes government agencies have been more responsive to people's needs during the past couple of years, but says more action is needed by local and central government.
"Despite a few new state houses being built in the city, the situation is still very hard for many people and they remain in precarious housing situations, such as living with family and friends in crowded accommodation, living in cars, in caravan parks and being put up in motels for weeks on end,'' Curran says. "More state housing is planned to be built, but it's not enough or fast enough to meet demand.''
She has "serious concerns'' the Council's Housing Action Plan "places the city in a holding pattern of producing more strategies and reports when what we need is actual housing''.
She would like to see central government and the council working in partnership, so that it does not take years to address these pressing problems.
Right now, Chris is focused on what not getting a secure place of his own could mean.
If he cannot get a council flat, a boarding house is likely to be the only option, if he could get a room. But that would not end well, he says.
"I'm setting myself up for failure again, if I move into a blimmin' bedsit.
"Even though it's a place to stay ... Some of the people staying in those places are drug addicts and alcoholics. I'd be surrounded by them.''
Chris has not seen his two youngest children, both teenagers, for a couple of years.
He wants to model something better than homelessness for them.
"I'll wait until I get my own place. That's how I want them to see me.''
