“Get there around midnight,” said Tommy Leighton, the press officer at New Covent Garden market. “Buyers Walk looks a bit like Porridge, the BBC sitcom from the 70s. It’s not a hustle and bustle place, so don’t expect a Turkish bazaar.” It was a spot-on description. Indeed by midnight most of the regular customers had been and gone. I managed to have a chat with Leslie Singh, who runs Pomona, a greengrocers in Belsize Park. He explained why he visits the market every Monday to Friday. “It’s essential for me to see the produce, so I buy it daily and I know it’s the freshest.” Buyers Avenue, particularly when viewed from above, was indeed a bit prison-like, echoey, with harsh lighting but lined, the entire length, with the most incredible, colourful displays of fruit and vegetables. In a prison riot it would be carnage. God help anyone near a pallet of tomatoes or watermelons. Trolleys, heavily laden with produce, are pushed and pulled by porters throughout the night past wholesalers and salespeople taking telephone orders at their respective stands. Behind the front-of-house scenes are cold storage units all stacked to the rafters with mushrooms, bananas and things I didn’t recognise, and then, outside, more porters and forklift truck drivers, weaving in and out of a city of wooden pallets. Rave music blasts out in places and blurry figures emerge through heavy PVC strip curtains. It’s my kind of venue. Against a backdrop of London’s high rises, it’s an impressive, and actually very moving, sight. All this going on, right there, while most of London sleeps. I was given open access. To a photographer this is gold. Allowed to go, on my own, up high, behind the scenes, in offices, in fridges, in storerooms – and everyone, without exception, took time to share what I very quickly came to understand was the overriding sentiment of the people who work there. Immense pride in the history and heritage and a passion for the market community. They all love working there, despite the antisocial hours six days of the week. Even when prompted about the cold, winter days I was told: “We just wear an extra layer and get a brew from Tony’s cafe,” a rough gem of a place tucked snugly away in a busy underpass. My order, a bacon and egg roll, and milky coffee, was remembered on my return visit and I sensed that Duncan, the owner, and his staff had a seamless system on the go after over 35 years in business. I’d love to know the average length of employment at the market; 30-40 years seemed normal and many were third or fourth generation there. Harry from Premier Fruits started working at the market when he was 15 after being kicked out of school. “It was either come here or get thrown out of my mum’s house.” I chatted with William Fisher who travels to the market six nights a week from Newbury in Berkshire. His grandad, also William Fisher, used to go to the old Covent Garden market in Soho and his dad, Geoff, took over the company as a teenager, running it when the market moved to the present location in Nine Elms, Battersea. “One of the best parts of the job,” he told me, “is working with some really interesting and great characters that have endless experience in the industry. It’s a real team effort to deliver produce to customers, so everyone must get stuck in and work until it’s done.” It’s very much a family affair. Although there appears to be relentless ribbing, it’s clear that they’re always there for each other. They may fight over every last pound of their business, but they’ll also be the first to buy a round at the bar. Mary Brunning, the only female salesperson, explained: “You do have to have a thick skin to work here as a female but it’s a job like no other. I’m lucky to have a job I love.” She even found her partner, Alberto, there – “trying to meet anyone outside of the market is virtually impossible when you go to work at 7pm every night”. By 6am the fruit and vegetable market is almost empty, apart from Bevington salads staff, who, much like their produce, all look as fresh as daisies. It’s a stretch to think that in 14 hours it will all be business as usual again. The dawn sky is disappointing as I head home, knackered but with two mangoes and three boxes of strawberries to show for it. New Covent Garden market is definitely a tough gig, but the perks are seriously enviable.