Last night at around one of the guards gave me a shout that I’d be moving to Wealstun today. At . In the morning. It was all hands on deck as I packed everything into my clear bags again. OK, it took me 3 minutes and only filled one bag. As I usually do when I know I’ve got to be up early, I managed to wake up an hour before I needed to. This wouldn’t have been too bad, but awake didn’t feel too great after watching the snooker final until the small hours. Can I get back to sleep? Can I buggery (maybe a bad choice of phrase considering where I am…). As with my old cell mate last week, the guard doesn’t turn up to collect me until almost 7. I’m too tired to even mumble ‘tosser’, so I just think it instead. Twice.
I’m sure the Prison Service model their speed of service on evolution, as both happen at similar speeds. An hour and a half later, six of us are still inHMP Durham’s reception centre being unrecepted. After what feels like another 6 weeks in a TV-less room with 5 other inmates, who I probably wouldn’t invite to mine for Christmas, we’re taken one by one to another room where we’re fully searched and, whilst not quite as far as a finger or two up the uncomfortable, we really are fully searched. Any belongings which you couldn’t keep on entry are handed back to you in a sealed bag and signed for and then, we’re off! Except we should be off, but one of the lads due on the same ‘bus’ as us is having to wait to get his daily methadone fix. Having listened to the knobber for the past few hours, I can’t help but think a better use of drugs would be to put him down, instead. Eventually we’re loaded into the paddy wagon, thankfully this time there’s enough trust not to handcuff us whilst they do it, too. It’s only three and a half hours since I left my cell, how brutally efficient they are.
It’s not easy to explain what it feels like, being driven through the streets and roads, looking out of your blacked out little window at the people going about their business. It’s the first time in two weeks I’ve seen people doing their normal thing without it being on TV and, to be honest, it feels remote and out of this world. The filter used on the tiny blacked out windows turns greens into browns, yet leaves other colours as they are, such as reds. You’re left looking at a silent, sepia filled world where the green fields look like scorched desert and nobody acknowledges your presence or passing. It’s a bad dream. Next time you see one of those white 7.5 ton vans and stare at its little square windows, bear in mind there’s probably a con in there staring right back at you. If you happen to be female and wearing a low cut top, the chances are higher.
The journey to Wealstun takes just over an hour, nothing of real note happens, though the cell on the van is absolutely freezing and my nipples are like jelly tots. It’s also very weird being driven along roads I’ve spent the past 10 years pounding up and down almost daily with work. Once again it’s like being there, but not there. We have to get to Wealstun before lunch at 12, otherwise the reception centre shuts down until and we’re stuck waiting in the paddy wagon for another hour and a half. The other guys in their cells keep reminding the driver to get on with it, which I’m sure he is grateful for…Our rag-tag bunch of cons arrive and are booked into Wealstun. I was weighed and, despite not having a had a proper shit for 4 days, have managed to lose a kilo since arriving inDurham
I’m sure the Prison Service model their speed of service on evolution, as both happen at similar speeds. An hour and a half later, six of us are still in
It’s not easy to explain what it feels like, being driven through the streets and roads, looking out of your blacked out little window at the people going about their business. It’s the first time in two weeks I’ve seen people doing their normal thing without it being on TV and, to be honest, it feels remote and out of this world. The filter used on the tiny blacked out windows turns greens into browns, yet leaves other colours as they are, such as reds. You’re left looking at a silent, sepia filled world where the green fields look like scorched desert and nobody acknowledges your presence or passing. It’s a bad dream. Next time you see one of those white 7.5 ton vans and stare at its little square windows, bear in mind there’s probably a con in there staring right back at you. If you happen to be female and wearing a low cut top, the chances are higher.
The journey to Wealstun takes just over an hour, nothing of real note happens, though the cell on the van is absolutely freezing and my nipples are like jelly tots. It’s also very weird being driven along roads I’ve spent the past 10 years pounding up and down almost daily with work. Once again it’s like being there, but not there. We have to get to Wealstun before lunch at 12, otherwise the reception centre shuts down until and we’re stuck waiting in the paddy wagon for another hour and a half. The other guys in their cells keep reminding the driver to get on with it, which I’m sure he is grateful for…Our rag-tag bunch of cons arrive and are booked into Wealstun. I was weighed and, despite not having a had a proper shit for 4 days, have managed to lose a kilo since arriving in
What a contrast between Wealstun Open and Durham
There are no razor wire fences, guarded gates or locked doors at every opportunity here. From the very outset we’re told if we want to leg it, just go- just make sure you leave your cell key as they’re £2.50 a pop. The open prison is a self contained, working community built on trust, designed for very low risk prisoners and those coming to the end of long sentences. It’s designed to begin integrating prisoners back into real life. There are 6 brick built wings around a central green, housing about 50 cells each. No fences in between. Then there are outbuildings including the canteen, workshops and education centre and so on. We’re told that during the day everyone is expected to work or be in education, there’s little room for people who want to do nothing.
We’re shown our cells, given the keys then over to the canteen as we’re just in time before the end of lunch. UnlikeDurham
For the evening we’re pretty much left to our own devices. At around 7pm the main wing door is closed and locked, though the inmates are allowed to be out of their cells for association until 10pm. It’s then we get chance to have a shower, use the phone and whatever else. There’s a scruffy old pool table with a surface like glass to play on but I think I’m going to spend most of my time reading. Around 8 o’clock there’s a roll call, we all have to stand by our cell doors while the guard walks around with a folder containing our cell locations with a picture of each of us. This happens a few times a day to pick up anyone who’s not where they should be. Once arrives we have to be in our cells, anyone caught outside their cell after that is liable for punishments, from a disciplinary right through to being re-categorised and sent back to a higher security prison. My jury’s out on this place. I’d just started to get used to Durham and the regime, found a comfort zone, although here it’s potentially a lot more relaxed. The sad thing is most of the other inmates seem to be habitual prisoners in the last few weeks of their sentences. On one hand they don’t misbehave too badly because when they get locked up for their next offence they won’t be eligible for open again, on the other you give them a bit more freedom and they start to abuse it. This is them on their jollies. Tomorrow my induction here continues (hooray, another induction), hopefully I can find some work or education that’ll keep me occupied until my release.
There are no razor wire fences, guarded gates or locked doors at every opportunity here. From the very outset we’re told if we want to leg it, just go- just make sure you leave your cell key as they’re £2.50 a pop. The open prison is a self contained, working community built on trust, designed for very low risk prisoners and those coming to the end of long sentences. It’s designed to begin integrating prisoners back into real life. There are 6 brick built wings around a central green, housing about 50 cells each. No fences in between. Then there are outbuildings including the canteen, workshops and education centre and so on. We’re told that during the day everyone is expected to work or be in education, there’s little room for people who want to do nothing.
We’re shown our cells, given the keys then over to the canteen as we’re just in time before the end of lunch. Unlike
For the evening we’re pretty much left to our own devices. At around 7pm the main wing door is closed and locked, though the inmates are allowed to be out of their cells for association until 10pm. It’s then we get chance to have a shower, use the phone and whatever else. There’s a scruffy old pool table with a surface like glass to play on but I think I’m going to spend most of my time reading. Around 8 o’clock there’s a roll call, we all have to stand by our cell doors while the guard walks around with a folder containing our cell locations with a picture of each of us. This happens a few times a day to pick up anyone who’s not where they should be. Once arrives we have to be in our cells, anyone caught outside their cell after that is liable for punishments, from a disciplinary right through to being re-categorised and sent back to a higher security prison. My jury’s out on this place. I’d just started to get used to Durham and the regime, found a comfort zone, although here it’s potentially a lot more relaxed. The sad thing is most of the other inmates seem to be habitual prisoners in the last few weeks of their sentences. On one hand they don’t misbehave too badly because when they get locked up for their next offence they won’t be eligible for open again, on the other you give them a bit more freedom and they start to abuse it. This is them on their jollies. Tomorrow my induction here continues (hooray, another induction), hopefully I can find some work or education that’ll keep me occupied until my release.
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