Sunday 6th September 2026

Here in the UK, the name for a prison for youths and young adults is Borstal.

Never really thought about it, but its an odd name.

Borstal, it turns out, is an area of Chatham which is packed with prisons, even still, even a Youth Offender's Institution: Borstal.

Chatham used to have one of the Royal Dockyards, its still there but now a museum. And under threat from a modernising French Navy in the middle of the 19th century, it was planned to build a ring of forts round Chatham to protect it from all angles.

So urgent was this that it took 41 years to complete, into the 20th century, but just in time for a World War, and the forts were put to use.

The one at Borstal, Fort Borstal has been abandoned for some years, owned by a series of people, one of who, as we shall see, had some alternative plans for parts of the fort.

While I was in France, tickets went on sale for a tour, and Andy kindly bought two, so we could attend. And i would pick him up on the way.

As time would be tight, no phys this Sunday, instead a lay in, then a coffee, before leaving home at quarter to eight. Drive to the A2, then up to Faversham, cruising at sixty, as we didn't have to be in Chatham until ten.

Andy was waiting, so back onto the motorways for a blast up to the Medway towns (and former city), turn off, down past the old airport, and then past the gatehouses of at least two prisons and the Borstal, arriving at the fort an hour and five minutes early.

We would go to explore.

We walk round the trees marking where the defensive ditch still is, until the land and view opened out so that we had a clear sight of the Medway Valley, the motorway and HS1 viaducts, as well as Diggerland.

We waited to watch two Eurostars and tow double Javelins go by, hammering over the bridge twice as fast as most of the cars.

And there was botanising.

I was showing Andy some Weld, when I saw a small red insect: a Firebug. A recent migrant, but in the warm summer we have just had, is thriving, and we saw them in their hundreds.

I took shots.

The videos of Javelins and Eurostar.

Then it was time to walk back to the entrance for the tour.

About thirty of us had arrived, and two guides, their children and at least three local volunteers to show us round and give us more information.

The Fort is now in the hands of people who are renovating it. A huge task due to its size, and the state previous owners had left it. There is even a vineyard there now, on the slope of the down leading to the motorway.

The buildings looked cared for, recently painted, and impressive.

We went underground, looking at the original defensive positions.

Along the top of the battlements, with our guide telling is of the fort's role in the two World Wars, mainly as home to anti-aircraft batteries.

Then down to the main magazine, and the steps down and under the defensive ditch.

I skipped the climb down, and the one back up, so got to see, first, what the previous owner had created inside the main magazine.

The passageway outside was lit by red lights, so that must have been a clue. And it was.

Inside there was a pole-dancing platform, six huge sofas, and in another room, lit red, was a dancefloor and another pole-dancing platform. A third room was a bar with a motorcycle above, set amongst glass mosaic.

This was here as there are no houses nearby, and a public road passes close, yet to get here you have to drive literally through the car parks to two prisons, and yet here was a sex club.

No other word for it.

It looked gaudy and cheap. And yet was out of the way, no one, it seems knew it was here, and the owner kept the doors locked when Historic England came to check on the listed site.

I stood by as the group climbed back up, and to see the look on their faces as they saw the tawdry rooms for themselves.

And that was the tour over. We walk back to the surface, a farewell chat, then we were on our way.

We stop to buy a bottle of Kent fizz from the shop, then to the car and a careful drive back past the prisons to the main road.

I told Andy about the Wall lizards at Ospringe, and I said I would show him.

Back on the motorway, down past the top of the A249, then to Faversham, before doubling back along the A2, turning off at Maison Dieu, then through the maze of parked cars to the church.

It seemed the wall had been repaired, and I thought they may no longer be there. But I concentrated on a few holes near to the ground, and nearby vegetation, and sure enough there was movement, and two adolescents were scuttling about, one posing long enough on a leaf for Andy to get a shot.

After that we climbed back into the car, and we drove back to the main road, turned east, dropping Andy back home on the way back to Canterbury.

Back home then for quarter past two. I popped two pizzas in the oven, so that once cooked I took mine and a pint and a bit of Belgian tripel to the sofa to watch the second half of the Everton v Man Utd game, before the romp that was Arsenal v Chelsea game, which ended in a 2-1 home win.

Quite right too.