The homeless man living in front of a London mega-mansion

There's a lot of stopping and staring in Knightsbridge. This part of central London is within a stone's throw of Buckingham Palace, Hyde Park and Harrods, bringing inquisitive tourists in droves.

While it may not divert quite as many eyeballs as the seat of the British monarchy, a curious collection of plants, garden umbrellas, shopping bags and children's toys filling a building's entrance causes many a curious glance.

The peculiar arrangement on a grand portico is what Anders Fernstedt, a man from Sweden who fell on hard times, has been calling home for more than three years already.

That building hosting his makeshift setup was, just a few years ago, London's most expensive house.

The mega-mansion at 2-8A Rutland Gate sold in 2020 for a then-record £210 million (€244 million, $278 million) to Hui Ka Yan, the founder of China's Evergrande group, who was sentenced to life in prison last month.

Hui never moved in and the house was registered under his wife's name. The freezing of her assets means it can't be seized by liquidators and the house is in a state of limbo.

So too was Fernstedt when he first stumbled across it. "I just thought, it would be a shelter for the night. I'm an avid camper, like an amateur botanist. I'm not afraid of nature," he told DW.

Fernstedt has never been inside the property, which appears to be in a state of disrepair. Instead, he gradually built his home in the portico, where grand columns guard the 45 rooms, indoor swimming pool and 116 windows. Year round he sleeps under the portico roof and a large umbrella which provides a hidden nook in which he's placed mattresses and bedding.

"I haven't had a bad night's sleep for as long as I can remember. And that goes for four seasons. It's not cold in the winter, and because I don't have walls, I get the breeze in the heat," he said.

"My conceit when I started was that sort of 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."

Fernstedt was raised by his mother in Sweden before embarking on a range of careers at home and in the US, building a name for himself in the tech world.

In 2016, he moved to England where he worked as a journalist and fact checker at publications including The Economist, before work dried up around 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 and he found himself living in a tent and then temporary accommodation, where he experienced violence and brushed up against people with severe addictions.

"Perhaps in this contemporary world, the biggest curiosity about my lifestyle is I'm completely off money," he said.

Fernstedt has built relationships with bakeries, cafes and florists in which he gets unused food, flowers for his home and use of power. He also makes use of a homeless charity in nearby Victoria for showers, clothing donations and socializing. But he's also made himself a broadly accepted part of one of London's most affluent neighborhoods.

"This is a very sophisticated neighborhood. I'd stayed for a few weeks and I knew everybody knew that I was here. And I thought, how can I sort of convey my presence without being present? And I thought, my constituency has to be the neighbors' children and grandchildren. Because if they plead my case at the kitchen table, my prospects improve," he said, by way of explaining the toys that line his abode.

"It is, in a way, a squirrel's nut collection," he added, when asked if he's worried about leaving his possessions out in the open. "I have so many nuts that I won't notice when something disappears."

There are some neighbors who do object to his presence, but Anders does his best to keep his home neat and his life quiet. Indeed, many others feel his presence prevents the house being a target for thieves or vandals. Overall though, he's found the community welcoming.

"Sometimes they introduce themselves asking what might I want or need. And my stock answer being: 'well, what you just gave me, a little bit of normal time, right? And neighborly banter'," he said. "Sometimes I'll be given food and very elegant Italian dinner jackets and clothes have arrived on a few occasions."

Not all homeless people in London have found such a stable lifestyle. Homeless charity Crisis estimates that there are over 200,000 people classified as homeless in England's capital, where "4,392 people were recorded sleeping rough in London between April and June, up from 4% on the same time last year. This is up 58% compared to 10 years ago."

According to government figures, there were 105,138 empty homes in London in 2025, or 1 in every 37 homes. Andy Burnham, who became British Prime Minister in July, has since vowed to offer "every rough sleeper in England a route off the streets by Christmas."

With such an enormous price tag, even after six years of being abandoned, Fernstedt knows that the house he lives at could potentially become untenable at virtually any moment.

But over the last few years, it's given him something he craved when pitching up his tent or being moved from one scary temporary residence to the next.

"I'm 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 worrying now, and if we worry too much, we won't be happy."