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Dillon wrote:No BM, a Somerset accent would be “Yrr, oi gaa’ sm frens op nrrth”

I was a guest at the Two Bridges Hotel in Two Bridges in Devon many Years ago and Breakfast was served to you from a buffet style servery, and as the waitress was handing me my plate of bacon and eggs, I said to her jokingly, ooh look! There’s just enough room on there for another slice of bacon and some tomatoes, what do you think? And the reply with a most serious look ” Ooh I don’ know ‘bou’ thaaat, you beddrr go see mesr den’”

Ah the good old days when we were dragged around Somerset, Devon and Cornwall as kids, when all I wanted was to go to Butlins! The only thing that I showed the feintest interest in was Dartmoor Prison for some strange reason. I found it far more enthralling than Chedder Gorge with its stallegmites and stallectites.
I think we were refered to as grockles.

Mr Dint, was the Manager, affectionately named after his Kirk Douglas like dimple in his chin.

Which reminded me of one of my husband's army mates. He was called Tex. Now I often wondered why he was called Tex, as he was from Wallsend. One day I asked my husband why Tex was called Tex?

'Because he tecks fits'

Bethsmum wrote:
Ah the good old days when we were dragged around Somerset, Devon and Cornwall as kids, when all I wanted was to go to Butlins! The only thing that I showed the feintest interest in was Dartmoor Prison for some strange reason. I found it far more enthralling than Chedder Gorge with its stallegmites and stallectites.
I think we were refered to as grockles.

Mr Dint, was the Manager, affectionately named after his Kirk Douglas like dimple in his chin.

Which reminded me of one of my husband's army mates. He was called Tex. Now I often wondered why he was called Tex, as he was from Wallsend. One day I asked my husband why Tex was called Tex?

'Because he tecks fits'

^^

Dartmoor Prison! I used to drive past the prison on my way to work which at the time was at a BBC Transmitting station on North Hessary Tor overlooking the prison and Princetown, the prison wardens were all ex career RN from Portsmouth, pensioned out of the Navy and only looking to do something like 15 Years in the Prison Service to earn a 2nd pension! I was amazed at the number of inmates who formed work parties on local farms, I was always of the belief that Dartmoor was a high security prison, there was a regular group of wardens who used to go to a local pub for lunch just outside the prison, can't remember it's name, they said they only took a liquid lunch so they could breathe at the inmates in the afternoons.

My dad would often take a 50 mile detour on the way back to our holiday cottage, just to let me look at Dartmoor Prison. The sight of that place has helped me keep the right side of the straight and narrow, i'm sure!
My fasination with prisons continued. When I was around the age of 16 I was friends with some Hells Angels! The Windsor Chapter no less! LOL. My mate Alan, Pikey, to his mates, was sent away on holiday at her Majesty's Pleasure and spent many a month between Wormwood Scrubs and Pentonville. How I looked forward to those Visiting Orders and being patted down by those dishy prison warders
In my later years I have a friend on the other side, and after serving 22 years in the army, he is now a prison warder in Durham Prison, the top security wing, guarding Ian Huntley, the Soham murderer.
He sits in on Huntley's interviews with his psychiatrist to try to get to the bottom of why a man would want to sexually assault two young girls and then murder them. He says the psychiatrist can get nothing from Huntley as to why he committed those crimes.
I've asked my friend if it affects him, and he says not, he was a squaddie and is immune to it all. The Prison Service does offer counselling to the warders tho'.
My friend has a terrible stutter. A really bad one, bless him. He says it gets on Ian Huntley's nerves.