There aren't many workplaces left that feel like an exclusively male domain. But you still don't see many women in the demolition industry.

It seems, when it comes to swinging balls of steel and knocking down buildings, it's a man's world. In fact, Bristol's Sharon Haskell believes she's one of only two female demolition workers in the country.

"I think there is another lady, up north somewhere," she says. "But generally, there aren't many of us around.

"Certainly, when I visit the annual federation of demolition workers conferences, I'm the only woman there who isn't carrying a tray of drinks. But it doesn't bother me – I'm quite used to it. The worst thing is, the hundreds of men that are there all know my name, because I'm the only woman, whereas, I struggle to remember all of their names.

"In terms of working in demolition on a day-to-day basis, I've never had any real problems with sexism. I've had a lot of mickey-taking, but you just get used to it. I've certainly never had a problem with any of the guys working for the company.

"Sometimes you find a client comes in who thinks he'd rather talk to my brother because he's a bloke, and demolition is a man's world, but that kind of response is increasingly rare. To be honest, it never offended me particularly – I'd just pass them on to my brother."

Sharon grew up with the world tumbling down around her – in a good way. Her father, Brian Haskell, launched the family business, TR Demolition, more than 30 years ago.

"My dad began by reclaiming timber from demolition sites, so we were probably one of the first recycling businesses in Bristol," the 38-year-old mother-of-two explains.

"That's what the TR stands for – timber reclamation.

"Both my brother David and I joined the company as soon as we left school. I was never particularly academic, and when I left school at the age of 15, with little in the way of qualifications, it made sense to join the family business.

"I did a variety of roles over the years both in the office and on site, before David and I eventually bought out my dad's business partner so we could become directors.

"I can remember being given the honour of pressing the explosives button for the demolition of a bridge over the M25 on my 21st birthday – it's not the way most girls spend their 21st birthday, but I loved it."

It might make her something of an anti-hero in some peoples' eyes, but Sharon and her company have been responsible for the removal of some real Bristol landmarks over the past few years.

The company is currently in the process of demolishing The Artichoke pub, in Lewins Mead, which is being bulldozed to make way for an £8 million, 175-bedroom Premier Inn.

Last year, it took on the unenviable task of removing the charred remains from Weston-super-Mare's Grand Pier, following the devastating fire that struck the attraction last summer.

"It was always going to be challenging to try to remove the remains of a building, when it's a quarter of a mile out at sea, in one of the highest tidal ranges in the world," Sharon says. "But actually, it didn't prove too difficult. We just kept things simple – broke up the buildings on the end of the pier, and removed them back up the walkway.

"The biggest challenge was being so much in the public eye. Obviously, we're used to people stopping in little crowds to watch our work when we're demolishing a building – people are always fascinated to see a building coming down. But we'd never had public interest before like we'd had with the pier. Each day there would be an audience of hundreds of people watching our every move.

"We were very aware we had to be sensitive to their emotions, because there's was a real feeling of ownership. This was the place where many of them had spent their childhood, and it was bound to be upsetting to see us tearing down what remained of it after the fire. All our men also had to be on their best behaviour at all times. With so many young families standing there watching them work, it was important that the sort of swearing and shouting that you might normally expect on a building site wasn't allowed."

Sharon says she has a great deal of respect for the close-knit group of 10 demolition workers in her team.

"They're brilliant," she says. "Demolition is such an under-estimated skill. We're seen as the untidy end of the construction industry, and you don't need any formal qualifications to go into demolition.

"But it's an incredibly technical and responsible job. The vast majority of your time is spent planning the way you're going to take a structure down. Because in this job, if you make a mistake, it's could easily kill somebody. So you have to make sure you're doing everything correctly.

"We tend not to use explosives much these days. There was a time when we did use them – back in the Seventies, buildings and old industrial chimneys were being blown up all the time. It was the classic image of demolition.

"But we came to realise that it's not a quick fix. It may look spectacular for that moment, but actually it takes just as long to set up all the explosives correctly, and clear away the great mass of rubble that you're left with.

"It's much more usual these days to take a structure down brick by brick. But that's not always as easy as it sounds. The sorts of buildings that were built in the Sixties and Seventies, that are now reaching the end of their useful lives, are often high-rise.

"That takes a particular specialism when it comes to working with high-reach equipment, because of course, you have to demolish the building gradually from the top down."

But the company deals with a broad range of projects, from stripping out offices to removing bridges.

"Every job is completely different," Sharon says. "That's why it's such a fascinating thing to do.

"You're never short of a new challenge."