HMP The Verne

 

We're in Portland, Dorset for a first ever visit to this part of the world.
For some reason I imagined that Portland would be flat and boring, wrong, it's a huge lump of rock (Portland Stone) jutting out into the English channel where stone is quarried to this day.
Jan and I explored the island a bit this afternoon and were intrigued to see signs to a jail (The Verne) and the Jailhouse Café. The entrance to the café is accessed through the ancient fortifications that sit on top of the island and is very impressive if not a bit spooky. As we approached, a group poured out that had been celebrating a 70 years old birthday, and I could see that the café was closed but asked a kind looking man if I could look at the menu.
'Sure', he (Ben) said, 'come in.' 'We serve hot food at midday and close about 3.00pm.'
'Are you open in the evening?' I said.
'Nah,' he said, 'we have to be back in our cells by then.'
'Oh,' I said I didn't realise you were prisoners (trying to make him feel better). 'Yes, all the men you can see are prisoners, unfortunately not the women,' he said.
I laughed all the way back to the car. We will visit to show our support.