Limiting beyond belief: the cost of living below the line
For nearly a million people in Britain, however, such poor sustenance is seemingly perpetual. And for far more across the world, such a shopping list would be welcomed with open arms.
Walking around supermarkets with just 5 pounds to spend for 5 days’ worth of food was more than a test of my culinary prowess. It was a test of character, a discipline that had to be learned to ensure I didn’t keel over.
Unlike some, I look forward to shopping – so much so that I do it nearly every day, at least to top up on bits and pieces. I enjoy looking out for asparagus, which is arriving on shelves just now; picking out some juicy-looking plums, then scampering off to the cereal aisle to get some oats after deciding they would go superbly in a crumble.
Having just a fiver is limiting beyond belief. There might be an allowance for oats, but plums are entirely off limits. A substantial amount of fresh, seasonal vegetables would likely take up around half that sum.
Here is what I bought: 6 value fish fillets, £1.62; 1 kilogram frozen vegetables, 75p; basics white rice, 40p; 6 eggs, £1.00; 500g savers pasta, 29p; 3 tins of savers kidney beans, 69p; and 2 dodgy apples, 24p.
It all came to £4.99 – a worrying basket of white plastic and beige.
This financial restriction and resourcefulness is what a growing number of people have to face here every day. The figure for many living in communities in sub-Saharan Africa meanwhile, would be an empowering lifeline.
We cannot begin to fathom such ongoing hunger and suffering – certainly not by imposing a self-inflicted period of 23p cans of kidney beans. But Live Below the Line at least helps to amplify awareness of poverty and maybe give the privileged a pea-sized taste of the difficulties. Above all, it raises vital funds.
This week I’ve felt depression, fatigue and a lack of nutrition – no nourishment of any kind. I craved a glass of wine, fresh fruit, and a handful of almonds. Something with actual flavour.
Lottie Stoddart, who wonderfully illustrated her week, felt the same. She told me: ‘It was not just a hungry week, but one completely lacking in choice or flavour. I’d never realized how much of an effect it would have on my mood, which grew dramatically worse through the week, affecting my drive and my drawing.
‘The challenge certainly gave me a small insight into what it means to be below the poverty line.’
But as 12am on Saturday morning hit, I found myself in a cocktail bar, sipping a Hemingway Daiquirí before munching something quite ridiculous bought from a kebab van. Since then, I’ve gone back to making sure my fish is ethically sourced. I’ve had more than my fair share of assorted nuts. I’m thankful I have a choice. Millions don’t.
A lot of people came up with ways to try to get some semblance of taste and substance to their dishes this week. I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
I had rice for breakfast, pasta and kidney beans for lunch, and more rice for dinner, with some frozen vegetables and either eggs or fish. And on two of the days I had a small, bruised apple. I wished I had bought the own-brand 15p rice pudding. I needed pudding.