The sun finally came out in England. My bedroom feels like an Arizona jail cell. But without cockroaches, just occasional wasps. Insects are much friendlier here. Even the mosquitoes hardly bite. These days, I love “lights out” because I get a good night’s sleep with no guards shining flashlights in my face and prisoners arguing, snoring and singing Spanish love songs. No sound of water leaking from a shower shared by hundreds of men, its drains blocked up with pubic hair, and semen swirling around my feet in a puddle.