TAPPING IN: Ashford Vale Tudo Brazilian jiu-jitsu club
Unlike others, this martial-arts temple offers outstanding hours, has convenient parking and might actually hold the key to cracking the code of life
Words by Sam Woods
At first, it seemed easier to lose the fight, once he sat on my chest, than to go about the effort of winning. But not for long.
That kind of pressure from sheer body weight, kindly provided by jiu jitsu coach Steve, really put things in perspective.
That perspective is why so many people come to the Ashford Vale Tudo Brazilian jiu-jitsu club. And it’s the same elsewhere, too, as jiu jitsu schools across Kent have multiplied in recent years: from urban centres to quaint villages, the word is spreading.
On approach from the car park after dark, the club didn’t look like it held the secrets to the universe. A medium-sized warehouse on the outskirts of Ashford, it wasn’t until I stepped through the door that the true light and life of the place hit me.
Bright bulbs above, heavy-duty gym equipment all around and the yells, smells and atmosphere of a room in which people give their all.
Not quite a classic church or shrine but undoubtedly a place of dedicated worship to Brazilian jiu jitsu - or BJJ - the non-striking martial art in which opponents grapple to the point of submission.
The walls are covered in art and Japanese texts, with piles of books on philosophy, life and violence. There are photos of renowned BJJ practitioners from around the world training at Ashford Vale Tudo, while competition highlights with hands raised in victory are displayed proudly. Frankly, this was all undeniably cool.
Waiting to speak with me was the chief devotee who would later tap me out: author and BJJ coach Steve.
“Belts and stripes are great and all, but it’s about the journey, not the destination.”
Steve reminds me of a monk: patient, considered, enjoying life and purpose, plus a shaved head. But it’s a devotion to BJJ that’s at the centre.
“Sam, welcome to AVT! Ready to see how deep the rabbit hole goes?” he laughs as he rises from a leather sofa to shake my hand.
An author, a partner and a father, Steve began ‘rolling’ several years ago and has progressed steadily through the belts, dedicating himself to the practice and its demands.
“Years ago, I was unhappy with my weight, so I started rolling at a club in London and immediately became hooked,” he says. “When I first met my partner, I said ‘We can do anything you want, but for two hours on Tuesdays and Thursdays they’re non-negotiable jiu jitsu’. That’s my addiction, my grounding, my cure. I just hope to stay healthy and keep learning. Belts and stripes are great and all, but it’s about the journey, not the destination.”
But why would anyone want to do this?
To be clear, BJJ isn’t easy on the eyes. It’s an intense form of grappling in which two bodies grapple to control their opponent to the point of submission via chokeholds or joint locks, all while avoiding it themselves. There are headlocks, armbars, neck triangles - and a lot of squashing.
It’s the epitome of struggle and perseverance. Physically, it’s highly demanding. Mentally, maybe more so.
Its effects for the devoted, however, are remarkable and over the past decade the sport has grown rapidly worldwide.
Kent is no exception, as is evident by the range of sessions at Ashford Vale Tudo: from beginner classes for young children after school to evening sessions for those finishing work and looking to meditate in the grind of a bout, and even weekend open-mat mornings where you can turn up for a BJJ fix and work on what you want.
As the group of 16 students of all ages begin warming up, Steve says: “People get hooked quickly and it comes down to growth. After every roll, you see how you can improve and know that you have,” he says. “Nothing else in life gives you that kind of immediate testing and feedback, allowing you to adjust. It’s also a regular reminder that you can overcome.”
The exercise benefit is obvious even in the warm-up, which includes ‘shrimping’: self-propulsion across the mats using only hips and willpower, both essential in the sport and, if nothing else, a way to resemble a high-speed shrimp in Ashford.
It’s an extraordinary sight.
Then the advanced students begin tumbling, too. Not clean or neat rolls - almost instinctual.
And that’s key, according to accountant Emma, who has enrolled two of her children in the classes.
“Jiu jitsu is how kids naturally move before school stiffens them out,” she says. “The warm-up, shrimping, is how kids are supposed to move. It’s not graceful, it’s natural.”
Emma actually joined class a few years ago, too. Now the entire family attend and occasionally they’re all on the mats together.
While I’m watching shrimping (I can’t take my eyes off it), Warren Berry - Ashford Vale Tudo co-owner with Ben Stewart, introduces himself.
“I’ll admit, BJJ - it’s addictive,” Warren says. “It’s a cheat code for living. I’ve used it in competitive fights, I’ve used it on the streets. It works. But beyond that, it tempers the soul. You leave knowing how and why you’ve improved. When you offer that, it feels like a civic duty.”
Civic duty aside, the school is also a business and, like many in Kent and beyond, the school was hit hard by Covid, with the first lockdown just six weeks after opening.
“Jiu jitsu isn’t socially distant,” he says. “We faced huge obstacles during Covid, but we adapted and kept the community together as best we could with the restrictions. Now people are making full use of us. We need to stay available. People need their jiu jitsu.”
Warren breaks off as Steve calls the group together to demonstrate the evening’s technique: a route to an arm-bar and a controlled tap-out. The group pair off. The drills begin.
Skill levels vary wildly - which is part of the point. Some practise fluid transitions, others politely ask which way the arm is meant to bend. This is best exemplified by Reuben and Julia.
Despite being just 15, Julia trains with adults twice a week and once with other teens, having rolled for three years.
“My mum found the school on Instagram,” she says. “I don’t have a game plan - I just like to attack. The adults are better than me, but that’s good. I learn more. And a new bruise is like a medal!” If this place closed tomorrow, I’d travel as far as it takes to keep rolling - but I love it here.”
Reuben has been rolling since he was four. There are photos of him in full gear as a toddler. It’s clear his life is in BJJ.
“I hated school. My learning never started until after-school practice began. It’s the same today. And now I’m saving for a one-way ticket to Thailand to learn muay thai. Then I’m aiming for the UFC [Ultimate Fighting Championship].”
Watching Reuben move across the mat with outlandish ease, I ask how he applies BJJ elsewhere.
“I can’t do without it. It gives me respect, confidence, humility, honesty and drive. My day doesn’t begin until jiu jitsu does,” he says. “And because I don’t roll with a game plan, I feel confident tackling things as they come. I know where I’m going.”
Eventually, I can’t resist asking Steve for a demonstration. He guides me through the manoeuvre step by step: hoisting, controlling my head, smooshing (technical term) my face, then rolling me into a gentle tap-out.
Even slowed down, the pressure, the weight, the struggle, stir something primal. This matters. After I tap, I ask how I’d avoid that in future. He smiles.
“That’s jiu jitsu,” he says. “You get a taste of the growth and want more.”
As I leave the warehouse and walk back through the dark car park beneath the stars, what stays with me is the sense that I’ve glimpsed something that touches on the divine.
The people have found a way to embrace struggle and apply it throughout their lives. They have learnt to overcome and advance on life with that mind-set. It’s the way you want to be.
A few days later, Steve was awarded his black belt by Warren. He shed a few tears while beaming with pride, reflecting the dedication behind it and what it means for him, his partner and his son as they tackle life together.
This friendly sanctuary on the outskirts of Ashford has the code to cracking life and becoming the person you want to be.
It involves shrimping.
