Going to the mart can feel like High Noon
STRIDING up to the swinging doors, shoulders squared, hat pulled low over my narrowed eyes I pushed my way in – and looked round the gathered motley crew with a suspicious stare.
With my heart in my mouth, I wiped away the beads of sweat gathering on my wrinkled brow, and tried to focus on the hands of those who now stood around in a circle. I watched carefully for any sudden movement, trying to spy any tiny twitch that would show who meant serious business.
Suspicious stares darted in every direction and there was an almost palpable air of distrust – anyone with a smidgeon of imagination would have heard the jangle of spurs and the theme from 101 old westerns playing in the background.
The tension, increasing to breakingpoint snapped with a sudden retort as the auctioneer’s voice rang out:
“OK gentlemen what’ll we start the bidding at? – do I hear £500?”
Now you might accuse me of overdramatising a trip to the market, but it’s always a tough job taking your animals to the livestock sales – for not only are they sold but they are also subjected to the close scrutiny of all those attending who judge a year’s work in hard cash. And while you stand in the ring selling animals the rhythmic chant of the auctioneer never seems to go on for long enough – and all too soon it grinds to a halt and then, with the crack of the gavel, the animal is sold.
However, standing on the other side of the ringside, trying to buy something, the same hypnotic recitation seems to go on for ever, encouraging you to go on raising your eyebrow or twitching your cheek to indicate bids far higher than you ever thought you would.
But a bit like the wild west, the markets are a quieter and I suppose more civilised place these days.
For, while market day used to be almost as much a social feature as it was one of business – where all the latest news and gossip of the week would be gathered – far fewer people now have time to stand around the ringside.
And although the move over the years to fewer, bigger marts means that they are always busy with the trade, with more work to do at home and fewer people to do it, many farmers find that their visits to the mart are limited.
But even on a quiet day, getting ready to step into the ring can still feel a bit like waiting for High Noon.