"John" (43) is from the Midlands. After living and working in London for many years, he returned to Ireland in 1996, where he was a caretaker of holiday homes in Wexford. After two years he decided to move to Dublin. When he arrived in the city he was immediately robbed, and later attacked in a hostel. He has been homeless for three years. A year ago, while living in an abandoned building, he was attacked and stabbed in the head. He spent a month in hospital and nearly died. Focus Ireland has been supporting him in his negotiations with Dublin Corporation for a flat. He prefers not to use his real name.

Night-time

I got myself a tent so if the weather isn't too bad I take the train out of Dublin and camp for the night, in Howth or Kildare or Arklow. Somewhere nice and quiet. Dublin is too dangerous. I have a travel pass so the train is free.

I've stayed in a lot of different hostels but they aren't great. There's one, Cedar House, someone got stabbed there last year. I wouldn't go back there. For a while I tried sleeping during the day, in a church, and walking around all night. But it was no good. After two or three days I couldn't talk any more. And anyway, walking around at night isn't safe.

I know two or three fellas and girls who've died just in the last year. If you're on the street at 2 or 3 a.m., there are people who'll rob and attack you. There's another problem with hostels: once you're in, some of them close the doors at 6 p.m. and don't let you out until the next morning. It's a catch 22 situation if you want to get night work. The odd time I got a bit of work as a kitchen porter, I wouldn't finish until 12.45 p.m. and then I'd have to sleep rough for the night. Everyone else would be leaving work and saying "good night" to each other, nobody guessing that I'd be sleeping on the street.

If I miss the last train out I go to a squat with a friend of mine. He's six foot and well built, which is good! The squat is near Temple Bar and it can get very noisy at 4 a.m. We find it hard to sleep. One night I saw eight rats - I suppose they were river rats - just across the road from the squat. Every time I looked, there were more and more rats. I couldn't sleep at all that night.

Mornings

If I've camped out for the night, I get a train back to the city. I have a shave and a wash on the train or in the station. I travel with two bags: one for my sleeping bag and one for my tent. I come in to Focus on Eustace Street to get something to eat in the coffee shop. It's 90p for a dinner. The Focus cafe is good, but there are a couple of other places I might go. Brother Luke's behind Smithfield does a free takeaway dinner in the morning or you can eat there at 2 p.m. But the food isn't great and there are too many people. The best one is Holles Row, near the maternity hospital, at 12 noon. It's run by a nun and they have real waiters. The food is good and it's less crowded. You pay 60p, which isn't very expensive.

Family

My father was a shopkeeper. He's dead now. My mother still lives in the family home, along with my youngest brother and his family. I have two other brothers; both of them live in Canada. I'm the oldest, and the only one who isn't married. I keep in touch with my family. When I was in hospital, after getting stabbed, one of my brothers rang from Canada, but nobody came to visit. I don't think they realise what my life is really like. When I was living in London, my mother sent my youngest brother over to me to get him a job. I looked after him for two years. Got him work, took him everywhere. I had a car then. It was 1984. He's married now with kids and he has a busy life. I hardly ever see him.

Dublin

If I'd only known the ins and outs of Dublin when I first came back to Ireland, I would have been a lot better off. I've got to know now, what people to look out for, how to watch. You're better off to avoid Temple Bar if you want to sleep rough. You'll be robbed. Gangs of young fellas, they go hunting around and they'll take your bag, your wallet, whatever they can get. They're only teenagers. At this stage I can see them coming, I know by the way they walk. I know what to do now in Dublin to survive: say nothing, keep quiet, and that's it.

You don't go to the Phoenix Park at night. I know a man of 62 who went there who got attacked and everything was robbed off him. The kids who do this, you'd know where they come from. Summerhill, Ballyfermot, Stonybatter, the Oliver Bond flats. Areas like that. I did my Leaving Cert, I got an education. These young lads have no education. And if they see a black man, they'll go for him first. They'll shoot cats with bows and arrows or set them on fire. They don't know any better. They learned off their parents.

Work

After I sat my Leaving Cert I went to train in Arnott's because I was going to work in my father's shop. I went to London on a holiday in 1975. I thought it was an amazing place so I ended up staying. I worked as the manager of a business equipment shop. I was a motorcycle courier for a while. I had several different jobs. I came back to Ireland and I worked in Wexford for two years caretaking holiday homes. I was on a train with all my stuff, moving from Wexford to Dublin. I was to meet a friend at the station. I was going to stay with her. I got off at Pearse Street and I don't know how, but I missed her. I didn't have her phone number or her exact address. I went to queue for a taxi, and before I knew what had happened, my bag, with all my stuff in it, was robbed. I had £25 in my pocket.

After that it was hostels, and begging on the Ha'penny Bridge, with the odd bit of work as a kitchen porter. Since my accident I get disability allowance of £77.50 a week. I get it at the GPO.

Home

I go in to the Corporation on Wood Quay once or twice a week, asking them what's happening about getting me a flat. Because I'm a single man, I'm at a disadvantage, but since I had my accident, I got a letter from the National Rehabilitation Hospital in Dun Laoghaire and things are moving more quickly. I've been told there's a possibility of a place somewhere in central Dublin. I have to be interviewed by the residents' committee first. They'll want to screen out anyone who's involved in drugs. The likes of me, a single fella who just wants a place to live, I should be OK.

It will be easier to get work when I have my own key to my own front door. There's plenty of work for kitchen porters but when they know you're homeless, they're inclined to say "sorry". If I had my own place I'd like to get a dog and a cat. Where I grew up, we had three acres, and we kept horses, chickens, dogs, cats, the lot.

Health

I have a medical card and I get disability allowance since the time I got stabbed in the head. I was living in a squat I'd found on the quays. It was a warehouse due to be demolished. I'd lived in squats in London, before I got my flat there. In London, people used to find a squat, do it up, and then they'd be asked if they wanted to buy it. A friend of mine got one for £10,000; it's worth a fortune now.

It's different in Dublin, but there are still plenty of squats if you look around. Find your building and buy a lock. It was easy to get into the warehouse - there isn't much security when the building is due to be knocked down. The gardai got to know I was there but they didn't mind. Then other people got to know I had a squat and started following me. One night I was there with a few people. There was one guy I didn't know. I was lighting a candle when he came up behind me and put a knife to my throat. I managed to move the knife but he stabbed me in the temple and then twice in the top of my head. I think he was on drugs.

I was in hospital for a month. It was touch and go. Ever since then I can't smell or taste anything, I have a slight speech impediment, and I can't feel on my right side. I might be holding a cup of coffee (I'm right-handed) and if I'm not looking I'll find my hand drooping and the coffee getting spilled. I had to learn to write all over again. I had to do a lot of therapy.

When I got out of hospital I went back to that squat, but it was full of strangers who didn't know me and my stuff was gone. I got into the Simon hostel in Ussher's Island, where I stayed seven months. I liked it there. It's run by students from different countries and they're very nice and honest. I did project work there, breaking up wooden pallets for firewood, and got paid £27.50 a week. The only problem with Simon is you can't stay much longer than six months because there is a huge waiting-list.

Friends

I have a friend working in the Smithfield Fruit and Vegetable Market, and I often go over and see him. Another friend was lucky enough to get a Corporation flat. He minds my things for me. John O'Hare, who works in Focus, has helped me a lot. He put me in the taxi to the hospital when I got stabbed. If it wasn't for him I'd be dead. He's been helping me to negotiate with the corporation to get my flat. Once you get stuck living on the street, it's difficult to get out but I intend to. Coming back to Ireland I have found it hard to get out of this hole.

"John" in conversation with Katie Donovan