Real life on Benefits Street - My week on notorious James Turner Street

It is just a month since Benefits Street was first beamed onto our screens.

But in that short space of time, pretty much everyone has got an opinion about White Dee, Black Dee, Fungi and pals – and most of them aren't favourable.

• Tourists flock for taste of life on Benefits Street

• Real life on Benefits Street - How hard can it be to find work?

So to find out what life is like on Benefits Street we went down there to see if the show is really reality television or if life is very different without the cameras in tow.

James Turner Street has become one of the most infamous addresses in the country, and the 'stars' of the show are now household names for all the wrong reasons.

They've become poster boys and girls for supposedly, everything that is wrong with Britain's benefits culture. 'Workshy' and 'lazy' are some of the kinder comments. Others have issued death threats.

The show has been discussed during Prime Minister's Questions, is a regular topic on Question Time has spawned hundreds of thousands of tweets from opinionated viewers and countless new stories.

As the controversy has grown, programme bosses must have been rubbing their hands with glee – with more than five million viewers at its peak, the documentary has brought Channel 4 its highest ratings since the 2012 Paralympics.

But when the cameras are switched off and notepads are tucked away what is life on James Turner Street like?

How are residents coping with the spotlight on their homes? After all, it is only a handful who have been filmed, although they have repeatedly insisted they were duped by crews who allegedly claimed they were doing a programme on community spirit.

Do they really deserve the backlash from viewers? And really, how hard is it to get a job – surely they can just get off their backsides?

After four weeks of judging from my armchair, I spent a week living in the area to experience day-to-day life on Benefits Street for myself.

I'll go and wash cars, that'll show 'em, I thought.

Despite the programme claiming 90 per cent of residents are on benefits, dozens of cars line the street including a Jaguar, at least two BMWs and a Mercedes.

Having seen Smoggy the 50p man struggle to get residents to part with cash for life's necessities, I thought I might be pushing my luck but I started out charging £1 for the service.

I arrived at James Turner Street last Monday. I was expecting a hive of activity, but the place was deserted. No tracksuited mothers sitting on walls, or semi-clothed children running wild. It's a rainy January, admittedly, but one of the first people I met told me that life had changed dramatically on the street since the show aired.

Introducing himself as Pat, he said in a strong Irish accent: "I just can't wait for things to get to normal and for people to leave us alone."

He's talking about the selfies. As well as the backlash, James Turner Street has become an unlikely tourist attraction with fans forming queues to pose for pictures by the street sign.

According to residents, James Turner Street has 'shut up shop'. Police are on regular patrols of the area, and the day after the show is aired, unmarked police cars park in the street amid concerns for residents' safety.

I started my day's work on James Turner Street's junction with Beeton Road, but as I knocked on the first few doors, I wasn't really getting anywhere.

One front door was freshly painted, with polished brass numbers and a front yard spruced up with plant pots. But with the neighbouring house I had to clamber over recycling boxes to knock the door – the number of the home written in marker pen and rubbish bags on the door step. There were crumpled up super strength lager cans strewn on a grassy play area and under a sign threatening a £20,000 fine for dumping was a discarded wooden pallet, not to mention a sofa left in someone's parking space.

As I made my way up the street there was a growing feeling of suspicion. Those that did answer, did so through the crack of their door. But it wasn't long before I had my first encounter with one of the show's stars.

I knocked on a door and stood back waiting for a reply. From behind me came a shout: 'Fungi is not in'.

I turned to see baseball-capped Samora Roberts, better known as 'Black Dee', on her doorstep across the street.

I told her I was just washing cars. "Oh, it doesn't matter, I thought you wanted Fungi," she said, before turning away and returning to her house.

It was clear people were looking out for their neighbours, possibly even more so since the documentary aired in early January.

I wandered off from James Turner to nearby Eva Road and Perrott Street to continue my quest.

Two men stood chatting. A sign in one window advertised a church jumble sale and the postman was joking with a family. What a difference a few yards made.

Tomorrow: How residents are coping in the spotlight as 'tourists' descend on James Turner Street.