Kaylene Bowes seems unconcerned about the brightly coloured underwear drying on the clothesline behind her as she poses in the patchy square of grass at the back of her caravan.
The small but spotless space has been her home for 21 years, settled among the dozens of other caravans boasting multi-coloured awnings and strips of lawn.
Like other Canberra neighbourhoods, the streets of the Narrabundah Longstay Park are lined with trees and the occasional empty bottle, but Ms Bowes said it was the tenants' attitude that set them apart.
"People help one another," she said.
"If you live out in the suburbs, some of them don't even know their neighbours."
But the park and its residents are a world of contrast.
A few streets over from Ms Bowes' caravan, neatly renovated and lined with local art, a broken down car sits amongst overgrown grass.
Rusting car parts are piled up behind a wire fence while a solitary dog growls at passerbys.
It's a place identified by charities as hosting Canberrans on low incomes, living in homes isolated by distance and infrequent transport.
Police have been called for disturbances, while residents report theft and property damage at the site where fire destroyed one home amid suspicious circumstances several years ago.
When approached, some tenants seemed wary to speak to media about the problems within the park. Another was willing to talk at length, but refused to allow his name or comments in print.
It's also a place plagued by a tumultuous past.
The trouble began in 2000, when the ACT Government sold the park to disability service provider Koomarri.
Having moved there with her partner Ronald eight years earlier, Ms Bowes said the site took a bad turn following the sale.
"Once Koomarri took over, things just went downhill," she said.
"Everybody really just did more or less what they wanted to. It led to the mess that it was."
Littered with illegal dwellings and overgrown gardens, the park was then sold on to developer Joseph Zivco for $2 million in April 2006.
Less than a fortnight later, residents were served with eviction notices.
For Ms Bowes and her neighbours, the shock was almost overwhelming.
"But it pulled us all together," she said.
"We knew we had to do something. I think it rocked everybody."
After weeks of protests and media pressure, the ACT Government attempted to buy the park on May 30. While an initial offer was rejected, a land swap deal was eventually reached and Housing ACT took over management.
But there was no end in sight for both residents and Koomarri as the fallout continued.
The ACT Government began to spend hundreds of thousands of dollars addressing infrastructure and safety issues, while media coverage continued over the controversial sale.
In 2009, Koomarri chief executive Margaret Spalding took her life in the midst of a defamation trial against 2CC for comments about her role in the deal.
Ms Bowes said the following years saw residents dealing with potential eviction as the government swept through the park, enforcing health and safety standards for those who wished to remain.
"Some of them were pretty upset, pretty emotional that their places wouldn't come up to the standards that they wanted," she said.
"We've lost a few people because of the health and safety issues. Some of the people have been moved out. There's now quite a few vacant sites, just empty blocks."
Despite the losses, the sense of community remained for the residents, the majority of which have praised the government for its work in overhauling the park.
Norma Boyd has lived in the park with her husband Frank for 11 years and has repeatedly knocked back her daughter's suggestions to relocate away from the neighbours she gossips with daily from her cemented verandah.
"I wouldn't move from here, no way," she said.
"A lot of it is security. We've had no problems here."
The community has also embraced newer members, such as Roger Baker.
The musician moved into the park 14 months ago, shifting to the "countrified" caravan park after numerous parties with friends down the block.
Amid the clutter of shooting magazines and guitars inside the converted caravan, a sign from his grandparent's property "Glenidle" takes pride of place.
For the house proud Mr Baker, nowhere else could be considered home.
"How can I explain it?" he said.
"You wouldn't get better friendships than what you'll get in this park."
But for all the security and community spirit promoted by residents, Ms Bowes said there was still some unease over their future.
Despite renewing leases with the ACT Government, she said the past drama and stories of caravan parks being emptied out meant the fear of eviction lingered for many in the park.
Sitting at the kitchen table in her orderly caravan, she said the dread was always at the back of her mind.
"Where do you fit people in that live in this lifestyle?" she asked.
"Where do we go?"