I was in a little town in the South of Mexico a few years back when I inadvertently found the local prison.
It didn't take a Lonely Planet or much investigation to find the place. It was smack-bang on the plaza in the middle of town and might well have had its plans drawn up by a child.
It was a jail, not a prison. A rectangle with enough space for six or eight squatting prisoners, three stone walls and a full-frame iron-bar front, just like in the movies.
The forlorn men inside could watch the world go by and the rest of the townsfolk could stop in and see who had got drunk or stolen a chicken. A set of stocks wouldn't have been out of place.
Medieval, that's how it looked. But, as my travelling companion quite rightly noted, Western versions aren't much different.