It's late Saturday afternoon in Kirkgate Market. We're parked out with our backs against an empty storefront in the 1875 Butcher's Row: just down from the glass-and-painted-ironwork of the grand hall, a bright covered lane that's paved in blond Yorkshire flagstone, with a dozen butchers on either side.
It's closing time, and the crowds are starting to thin. There are a lot of heavy grocery bags being carried about by families heading home, and there's a definite sense of urgency among the vendors to clear the stock that will be spoiled come Monday reopening. It's the hour for clearance sales, counter-offers, and some direct competition between the criers.
In this audio clip, a few of the older butchers have stepped out from their shops to hawk on the row, leaving the younger men inside to scrub the place down. One of them has come out with a big tray, displaying a selection of cuts of meat to be sold as a package, and he's animated, jabbing each cut as he names it. His loud cries have drawn out his neighbor, who pipes in reactively with his competing deals.
Across the way, there's a produce vendor who's trying to sell some big bags of very ripe bananas, which he undoubtedly bought at a discount himself: that's the beauty and the catch of a lot of the deals at the market.