It's pitch black, wet and miserable outside as I get dressed into my bright orange overalls and heavy steel toe cap boots. Waking up at 4.30am was out of the ordinary for me, but for the Bristol Waste crew it's just a typical morning shift. Stepping foot in the depot, I'm adamant it's the worst weather possible to spend a day in the life as a recycle bin worker - but driver loader Simon Bohin, 42, tells me I've actually got lucky.
"At least it's not very windy. Emptying a box of plastic in gale force winds is almost impossible - and it's even worse in the summer when it's hot," he says. No matter the temperature, the crew has a duty to empty the city's bins, come rain or shine - or even when there's a pandemic in the air. "We were on the frontline during Covid and the public really appreciated it," loader Dave McKenna, 47, tells me proudly.
While the dangers of the virus were unknown, Simon and Dave were among 600 other staff members continuing to risk their lives to do their jobs - so today's rain shower really is nothing to them.
At 6am, the three of us head out in the waste collection truck to their usual Thursday route, which Simon knows like the back of his hand.
As we pull up on the first road, all systems go and we start lifting boxes of cardboard, glass, paper and plastic left outside of houses.
"Don't pick up anything that's too heavy for you, leave those to me," Dave tells me, as I squat and lift like I was taught to do in training.
While my weak strength didn't seem like much of a problem, I soon discovered my height was.
Standing at 5'1 meant my face was in line with the waste compartments - so the splashback quickly became my least favourite part.
"We've got a loader who is as short as you," Simon chuckled, reassuring me that I wasn't the only one.
Usually it's only two loaders and one driver working, but today we had Matt joining us, and he quickly taught me the tricks of the trade.
"You need to lift it and turn it upside down," Matt demonstrated, so I'd avoid all the rubbish hitting my face.
I got stuck into the job and when the torrential rain hit us, I cared less about the bin juice as it was soon washed away.
Watching the three men weaving in and out of each other like clockwork was impressive. It was fast moving and hard work keeping up with their pace, and took me a while to suss out what went where.
But with a little help from them, there really was nothing I couldn't do and I questioned why there were so few women doing the job, with only a handful of females at Bristol Waste.
"There is no reason at all, I think it's just a stereotypical man's job so not many women apply," supervisor Mark Purnell, 49, tells me.
The workload is strenuous and it's certainly not glamorous, but neither are a lot of physically demanding jobs.
As the roads begin to get busier, Simon has a knack for jumping out of the car to help while keeping an eye on traffic, making sure to move to the side to let cars pass by.
"I try to always be courteous. We appreciate that postal workers, delivery drivers and the rest of the public need to get to work too," he explains.
Though it definitely wasn't always easy and there was a lot of impatient drivers giving them stick after just seconds of waiting.
"The orange outfit alone is enough to anger people," Simon said, pointing at his high-vis jacket.
I learnt the collection truck has right of way on smaller and more narrow streets, and needs to block the road as cars can't drive on the pavement.
Still, that didn't stop a lot of frustrated people and Dave recalled dozens of incidents where they'd almost been ran over.
On the main roads, Simon stuck to one side and we loaded that pavement before moving across to the opposite, making sure to dodge and direct the traffic.
"There's a lot of risks and we prioritise safety," Simon explained, keeping an eye on his crewmates.
Whether that be speeding mopeds or potentially life-changing diseases, the crew always have to be cautious of where they are and what they're picking up.
Every single loader could recall a time they'd found syringes in recycling boxes and moments they'd called the police after spotting dangerous weapons.
"We've found a lot of sex toys, mannequin heads, nappies and even a machete," Simon told me, proving that some people really will try to recycle anything.
Luckily, I didn't come across anything quite as rogue, just the odd tampon and slugs all over the food bins.
But I did quickly realise how problematic it is when households don't know how to correctly organise their recycling.
"Tins used to be recycled with paper, but now they're with plastic. A lot of people don't know it's changed," Simon told me, as I separated people's cans by hand.
I learnt that tissues aren't recyclable and just make a mess, and broken glass is very common - so is hard plastic that cannot be recycled with thin.
"We'll see people trying to recycle their fridge drawers but it's a different type of plastic," Simon explained to me.
I spent a lot of time removing glass bottles from the plastic boxes, which delayed how quickly we were able to get down the road.
When I finally find a moment to take my damp gloves off and check the clock, I was stunned to see that it was only 8am. The next six hours doomed on me and I realised how shattered I already was.
But the early start is one of Simon's favourite parts of the job. "It's great for the school run and families," he tells me, adding that they get weekends and bank holidays off.
Being a driver earns you £27,000 on average a year, which is a price increase for lots of the crew that used to drive HGV vans for different companies.
As well as the "good pay", Dave tells me his favourite part is working with the same colleagues every single day and sharing "banter" with each other.
"We spend more time together than with our own families," he explained, having worked and socialised with Simon for four years.
By 10am, I'm dripping wet from head to toe and I don't know if it's rain water or bin juice that's trickled its way down my arm and into my clean T-shirt - but surprisingly I don't care.
I had a smile on my face all morning and there was something so rewarding about the physical aspect of the job. It felt like an accomplishment every time we stacked the empty boxes.
When the truck was full, we headed back to the depot to wait for another crew to unload it and took our 30-minute break.
Sticking the kettle on in the staffroom for a well-deserved coffee, I tuck into a Mars bar and swear it's the best one I've ever had.
Then we head back out to finish the rest of our route and try to dodge the lunchtime traffic.
"The residents are absolutely brilliant and we'd do anything for them," Simon tells me, waving at a man in the street.
And I see it for myself, as lots of people will come out of their houses to chat to the crew and thank them for their work.
One elderly lady popped her head outside and asked how many of us were working, then returned - to my surprise - with five coffees in takeaway cups and a clear bag of assorted biscuits.
I'm instantly touched by her special gesture, as she calls out: "I've got sausages if you want breakfast too!" - though we kindly decline.
Getting back to the graft, I learn which houses have assisted collections and we make sure to put the boxes back in front of their doors instead of the road.
The afternoon goes much quicker than the morning, though I'm counting down the hours until I can have a hot shower and wash away the smell of waste.
By 1pm, we're completing our round, having had help from another crew who'd finished early, and we head back to the depot.
My whole body is feeling the weight of the day and I consider taking an afternoon nap when I get home, but Dave tells me that he powers through till bedtime, so I promise to do the same.
It's been a messy and tiring shift, yet I couldn't've asked for a friendlier crew to show me the ropes, and I'd champion more women to give it a go - knowing the hours and pay would suit a lot of lifestyles.
The job has a really negative stigma attached to it, but I have a newfound respect for the trade. Without Simon, Dave and Matt collecting our waste, the community simply wouldn't function.
My height had its hurdles but Dave reassured me I'd "110 percent" make it as a recycle bin loader and he'd have me back next week - though I'm really looking forward to not setting a 4.30am alarm again.
