Fri, 26 Aug, 2011
I grew the most savage beard I could muster in four days – 1.5mm of brutish fluff. I was, after all, going to spend a night sleeping rough in this old and quirky town; and as we all know, vagabonds are masters of that esoteric science of facial hair. It was important that I kept things authentic. However, I must be clear on one thing: this was not a grand gesture.
No, to assume that a single night on a bench in the faintest of rains could symbolise any level of solidarity with people who dine out from the garbage strikes me as vulgar. Not dissimilar to importing a child from Cambodia and dressing it up like a Pokémon. Gestures are important, but this was simply a challenge, a mini adventure, an experiment in pure Gonzo journalism.