There were nights when the cold was unbearable as Ash Dejong huddled in the tiny tent with her dog Gizzy.
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Still, she'd take off a jumper and bundle up her little companion, worried he wasn't warm enough as the worst of Albury's winter seeped through the flimsy material.
Ash, 28, spent two months sharing a tent with her nephew in a relative's backyard during July and August this year.
It's not the first time they've been forced to sleep in a tent, straying from backyard to backyard of friends ... until the welcome wears out.
When Ash lost her father to brain cancer in 2018, she desperately tried to keep up the monthly payments of $1488 on the house they rented in Melbourne.
There was no one to help the young woman with a learning disability and a host of untreated mental health problems including anxiety and depression.
Her mother passed away in 2012 from heart failure, she tells me across the bench we're seated at in a South Albury park.
Forced out of her home and with the onset of COVID-19, Ash fled to her nephew on the Border.
For a while it looked like things might pan out; the pair found a unit in Lavington with the help of a relative living locally but disputes with the landlord saw them turfed out again.
Their story is not new but it's relentless, says homelessness campaigner Kate Young who admits "I've been banging on about this for years".
"People don't just walk out the door and decide they're going to live in a tent," she says.
"The problem is the desperate need for temporary accommodation but there's just nothing and then you've got the housing crisis and so many people looking.
"You've got to understand we're not talking about a potential tenant who comes with a five-star resume here."
Ash and her nephew currently share the cost of a motel room at $500 a week; Ash pays her share out of a meagre disability pension.
It's a last resort that leaves little to live on.
Many local motel operators now offer this type of accommodation; some have long-standing arrangements with housing departments and other crisis agencies.
Generally it's a short-term solution - and it's expensive.
But, actually, this style of accommodation works quite well, says Kate who met Ash at the motel where her own charge Les is staying.
The hairdressing salon owner, who rescued Les off the streets four years ago, says there are several homeless people at the motel and the group has formed a community, of sorts.
They live separately - but together - in accommodation that is manageable.
"You just can't go from living on the streets or in a tent to managing a three-bedroom house," Kate points out.
There can be drug and alcohol-related issues, undiagnosed or untreated mental health problems, and even criminal histories.
They can barely manage themselves let alone the responsibilities that come with renting a house.
But the yearning is there.
It's "wicked" that so many of our broken and most vulnerable are being robbed of this fundamental human right, says Kate.
Now Kate and Les's "life-changing" support worker Mason Edstrom are on a mission to find a motel that can be turned into a hub for the homeless.
Their vision is to use this "motel model" to fill the yawning gap in crisis accommodation by providing a safe place for the homeless with support to access the services they need.
Anyone who knows Kate also knows she's a woman who makes things happen.
The big-hearted hairdresser has spent a gut-wrenching and turbulent four years championing Les's cause and fighting to free her once-homeless friend from a system that failed him.
It's taken super-human efforts and herculean hearts.
Many times, as Les fell back into the abyss, well-meaning family and friends begged Kate to give up.
Mason, who runs his own Youth Abilities Community Support Services, has been instrumental in Les's turnaround, according to Kate.
Les joins us at the park with his dog Sophie to declare proudly he's "three-and-a-half months sober" before skipping off again.
It's the little, intertwining links that become the lifelines to getting on your feet - or not.
A door you can lock ... is a start.
- Mason Edstrom
"Les had been going really well and was living in a house of mine," Kate recalls.
"But then at Christmas, a mate we met through Les took his life in really traumatic circumstances.
"It affected us all very badly and it rattled Les deeply.
"Another person let down by the system; these can be extremely volatile and delicate situations where a person is isolated from their family and supports because of disability, trauma or drugs.
"We sat on the porch and decided if it's the last thing we do, we're going to make a difference in people's lives."
And so they made a pact to "forge ahead" with a plan that leaves no one behind.
As luck would have it, the house Kate owned was "unlivable" after a recent fire, which meant Les needed temporary accommodation - a motel was the only option.
But out of the ashes has risen a vision.
Mason believes the model can work and says the impact of COVID-19 has made the need even more critical.
"Group homes don't work because they are far too restrictive," he says.
"This model would provide safe accommodation without too much responsibility for the person.
"It would be affordable if you ran it privately; you would have people keeping an eye on everyone and helping direct them to services.
"People would form connections and relationships; like an extended family."
Like Les found in Kate.
"When you see the progress made with Les, it's so worth it," Mason says.
"To see a guy abused by the system get some traction ... we want to help more people."
Two weeks ago there were 10 homeless people living in a barbecue shelter on the Noreuil Park foreshore, Mason says.
"One old man had all his belongings thrown out by council," he says.
"Being safe, being able to keep your belongings safe ... a door you can lock is a start."
Ash is learning to trust and hope again thanks to her new friends.
She'd like to go to TAFE and become a mechanic "following in Dad's footsteps".
Kate's got her booked in for a second medical appointment to sort out a "proper mental health plan".
"We need to start rebuilding a nice life for Ash," Kate declares firmly.
"Why should she miss out because she's been in the wrong circumstances?"