A week has passed since my last diary entry, not a lot has happened, I’ve just been getting into the prison routine, one day has felt a lot like the next. My current cell mate is about the quietest person I’ve ever met, in true convict style he isn’t guilty of his offence (which happened to be being caught in a car on the M1 in a full on undercover Police road block with about a kilogram of cocaine between him and his mates). That’s cost him more than 4 years of his life at Her Majesty’s, he’s about 2 years in. Having been thrown out of another open prison for being caught with alcohol, he’s unlikely to move from this cell for quite a while.
After a couple of weeks in prison, inmates are categorised according to their risk level, from A through to D, ‘A’ being your average axe wielding, child killing mega nutter, ‘D’ being your unfortunate soft arse of the prison world. Once categorised, prisoners are shipped out to other prisons which suit their risk level. I’ve been waiting for my categorisation and ticket out of Durham
Today I managed, at last, to get myself on the list to go to the library. The guard shouts ‘Library’ from the bottom floor and, assuming you haven’t got your daytime TV on too loud, you press the emergency buzzer in the cell to let the guard know you want to go. There were about 10 of us this morning, the excitement was killing me as we all waited on the ground floor for the escort to the library. Yes, excited. About going to a library. Excited. Getting anywhere in prison takes time, and the library is no exception. We’re led through a heavy barred gate into a space between the wing itself and the outside. Once we’re all in this space, the gate behind is closed and locked. The outside metal door is unlocked and we file out into the outside. The guard shuts the door behind us.
We now walk along the outside of the wing, to our right is a 100 foot tall Victorian cell block, to our left 40 foot fences with razor wire on top and, behind that, the old block that used to house women, including a Miss Hindley. A couple of hundred yards further and we reach a gate in the fencing. This is unlocked by the guard, we file through, and it’s locked again. We’re now at the main admin building, close by to where new arrivals are brought in- there’s a paddy wagon turning after making a ‘delivery’. The next door is proper Mission Impossible. The guard looks into the camera by the door and presses the buzzer. A few seconds later the door swings open and we’re inside again. Door locked behind us. Yet another big iron gate to be unlocked, we’re all through, then up a few flights of stairs. One more door is unlocked and locked behind us. We’re in! It’s taken about 15 minutes to walk 400 yards.
For my first visit I’m allowed to choose 3 books to last me the week. The book selection’s pretty good, but I’m left with that video rental problem- I daren’t choose a duffer, so it takes ages to decide what to bring back with me. In the end I play safe with some Grishams. You might have thought I’d had enough of courtrooms… Having said that, the most popular books in the library seem to be of the ‘real crimes’ variety, which is worrying. Getting back to my cell is, surprisingly, a reversal of the way we came. I’m trudging up the stairs towards my cell when my name is barked by an unfamiliar guard on the level below. What now? After all the meetings, daft questions and inductions I’ve managed to persuade the powers that be that I’m not the axe wielding type- I’m told by the guard that I’ve been made a Category D. To put a bit of cream on my Christmas pudding, I’m also told that I’ll be moving next week to an open prison, most likelyHMP Wealstun, same place as my old cell mate earlier this week. It’s expected I’ll be moving on Tuesday next week. It’s a strange feeling, being elated because you’re going to be moved to another prison…
We now walk along the outside of the wing, to our right is a 100 foot tall Victorian cell block, to our left 40 foot fences with razor wire on top and, behind that, the old block that used to house women, including a Miss Hindley. A couple of hundred yards further and we reach a gate in the fencing. This is unlocked by the guard, we file through, and it’s locked again. We’re now at the main admin building, close by to where new arrivals are brought in- there’s a paddy wagon turning after making a ‘delivery’. The next door is proper Mission Impossible. The guard looks into the camera by the door and presses the buzzer. A few seconds later the door swings open and we’re inside again. Door locked behind us. Yet another big iron gate to be unlocked, we’re all through, then up a few flights of stairs. One more door is unlocked and locked behind us. We’re in! It’s taken about 15 minutes to walk 400 yards.
For my first visit I’m allowed to choose 3 books to last me the week. The book selection’s pretty good, but I’m left with that video rental problem- I daren’t choose a duffer, so it takes ages to decide what to bring back with me. In the end I play safe with some Grishams. You might have thought I’d had enough of courtrooms… Having said that, the most popular books in the library seem to be of the ‘real crimes’ variety, which is worrying. Getting back to my cell is, surprisingly, a reversal of the way we came. I’m trudging up the stairs towards my cell when my name is barked by an unfamiliar guard on the level below. What now? After all the meetings, daft questions and inductions I’ve managed to persuade the powers that be that I’m not the axe wielding type- I’m told by the guard that I’ve been made a Category D. To put a bit of cream on my Christmas pudding, I’m also told that I’ll be moving next week to an open prison, most likely
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