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When Louis Theroux went to San Quentin prison he found a bizarre self-contained society where "straight" men fall in love, gangs are divided along strict racial lines and an inmate can be assaulted for the most minor mistake.
On a sunny day last summer I passed through a metal detector, entered a portcullis-like gate (called a "sally port") and walked into one of America's oldest and most notorious prisons, San Quentin.
I was chaperoned by one of the guards - for security purposes - not to mention a three-person camera crew - for documentary purposes. But I still had butterflies in my stomach.
I'd be doing a 10-day "hitch" for my programme. The idea was to get a glimpse inside the strange, secret world of hardened offenders and the lives they lead "inside".
I'd been warned about the risks involved: we were to stay together as a group at all times; no wandering off. If one of the team had to use a toilet, we would all wait.
Among the odd requests was that I couldn't wear blue - no jeans, no denim shirts - because it was too similar to the uniforms of the lifers. In prison, the clear distinction between the people doing time and those just visiting is paramount - assuming you want to make it out alive.Never having been to prison before more
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