Oh what a beautiful morning!

The sun had risen over the bay and was shining on the still blue mirror of the sea when I drove to prison. It was so glorious I began to sing, 'Oh what a beautiful morning ...' I'd nearly got through it when I stopped and said, 'My word, you do have a terrible voice.'

I have a good reading voice but a dreadful singing voice but I didn't let it stop me for long. I just sang very loudly so I couldn't hear how bad it was.

The prison is on the main road that follows the line of the bay but where the bay is beautiful the prison is grim. Opened in 1861 the Victorian blocks are meant to house 268 men but numbers currently are in the region of 430. A recent report was highly critical of the prison saying, 'It was easier for the men to get drugs than clean bedding,' but most criticism was reserved for the lack of support for vulnerable prisoners following four suicides in four years.

It seems to me from what I've seen that most of the staff do their best but under-funding and staff shortages are, as ever, to blame.

One of the men in the chapel today said his cell was freezing with its badly-fitting windows allowing draughts in. The chapel itself was very warm today and is a pleasant enough place with the bars on the window being decorative wrought iron making it look less cell-like. 

The chapel was originally the visiting area and was apparently dark and gloomy in those days. I remember one young man many years ago saying he remembered it like that from when he used to visit his dad. And now he's inside. Cycles are so hard to break.

Talking to the men they always say, 'I'm not coming back in,' and they leave prison full of good intentions, which last until they're jobless and or homeless, or they fall back in with their old mates who haven't been caught yet and get led astray.

I'm sure many of the men come to the Sunday service simply to get out of their cells or to chat to/pass things to their mates, but sometimes their seeking is genuine. the lad sitting next to me this morning said it was his first time in church since he was ten - he was probably in his early twenties. It wasn't the best service as it was a communion service that entailed following and saying words on a sheet but he said he'd be back. They can put on big brave faces but underneath they still need love, forgiveness, self respect, and a sense of belonging.

I just hope my singing didn't put him off.