The thin wooden door is ajar, and I open it wider, the smell and noise rolling out around me. Across the threshold is a different world of blows and hurt. There are maybe a hundred people in this small warehouse. The far end has a large stack of crates, and I see that some of them have been taken down to be used in the centre of the room; the centre of attraction. All the men - and there are only men - are gathered round the circle made from these crates, those at the front leaning in, those further back peering over or around them. They are all shouting. At first it is an incomprehensible noise, an insensate howling which reverberates round the high-ceilinged building in waves and fills my head, stirring my blood. However, as I move into the room and start to press in between the bodies, the noise resolves itself into words: 'red' and 'black'. Amongst the mingling calls, these words are being repeated over and over.

Eventually, I push far enough to see, hot, hard bodies press in on each side, throbbing with contained energy, expelled only through each gusty shout.