Getting The Boot

It is vital in any partnership that in order to keep things fresh you do new things together.

So it was that in our 16th year together Mr Howle and I ventured forth yesterday to take part in our first car boot sale.

We had quite a lot of stuff from when we emptied my Mum's house back in April. All the best things went to auction on Saturday and I'm anxious to be able to ring the auction house tomorrow and find out how they did. We didn't go along in best "Bargain Hunt "fashion as the Olympic torch was making its stately progress through Greenwich on Saturday morning and no doubt grinding everything to a halt in the process.

This week we booked ourselves a premium pitch at the renowned Battersea boot which takes place every Sunday evidently. We loaded the car with several boxes of tea services, glass vases, and some nice objets d'art from the 30s and 50s, together with what one might call just general household rubbish that we have accumulated during the last seven years living here in Sydenham old mobile phones, old cameras, a redundant electronic PDA device, a Chinese harmonica, and an iPod mini still working but with a storage capacity of only 4 GB.

On arrival our smart blue car, or for those of you know him well, Guy, was directed into line, and after hiring two tables we began to set up a stall.

Most of my childhood was spent behind a counter on Sundays. I thought it was the most grown-up adult thing in the world to stand next to my grandfather behind the shop counter and survey the passing public. Grandad was 6 foot four, a cricketer and a rifleman, and quite visible behind the large oak counter. At the time I was about three foot one and a little less easy to spot!

No such problems yesterday with the two rather flimsy pasting tables that we hired. Having spread out our goods on them, and the selection of the more dubious items on travel rugs on the floor nearby we waited for the rush. It's five pounds to come in early at 11:30 AM for the dealers, and we attracted a fair bit of interest. A box of coins which we had down as going for five pounds went for over £20. No doubt they'll be reselling it at Bonhams this week for millions! A rather attractive Spode tea service with a few chips went for £25. As anybody who has ever shopped with me when on holiday in Turkey knows, haggling is one of my strengths. This time however on the other side of the shop counter, I was immovable. We spent a Saturday two weeks ago working out prices we thought might be good for each item based on research on the redoubtable eBay, and we had marked everything a little up from that. This meant that there was always room to make an initial discount, but then I stuck. On most occasions it worked, but some times the potential buyer would sigh and move on. I found I didn't care, and started to assess buyers as to whether I liked them or not. A rather sweet Chinese woman enquiring about one of the willow pattern tea services that we had for sale had a lovely smile and I told her it was going for £25. She needed to have a little think about it and was still stood by the stall within earshot when a rather pushy man started enquiring about it. I told him it was £35, which didn't please him, but which made the Chinese woman smile even more. She didn't buy it, but then neither did the guy mercifully. If you need a nice set of five beautiful 1930s willow pattern cups plates and saucers they are currently available in our shed, along with a set of six promotional Babycham glasses from the 1950s, and a beautiful set of 12 shot glasses, also 1950s, each with a band of coloured frosted glass around them. Make me an offer!.

It is amazing at a car boot sale as to just what tat, crap, and shit people are prepared to buy as long as they don't have to part with too much money for it. The Sony Clie state-of-the-art around 15 years ago PDA device must've been picked up at least eight times and examined with the greatest of interest. Eventually it went for one pound and 50 p because the man wanted the charger. We sold an awful lot of old cassette tapes that we long thought had passed their sell by date for 50 p each, and my childhood vinyl collection was flicked through, picked out or discarded from eager record buyers.

There was a camaraderie among the stallholders was great to be part of. John, a regular at car boot sales who was our immediate neighbour immediately bought £25 of goods from us as soon as we were setting out our stall, and brought us a cup of tea at various points during the day. In return we looked after his stall while he was running away making his frequent sallies to other traders to buy. I suspect he was a bit of a serial car booter, our John, and probably took away more than he sold. He said he was doing it all as part of a clear out though he didn't have a particularly empty car as he left and it wouldn't surprise me to come across him in an episode of "Serial Hoarders "on Channel 4.

The end of the day saw the real scavengers descend on us. They flitted from stall to stall like those small birds that perch on the jaws of crocodiles and pick things from their teeth. There weren't interested in anything that was likely to be priced above one pound, and even then they wanted a discount. We sat back as does the crocodile and watched from a distance, but letting non of our precious merchandise go for less than what we wanted.

We had a beautiful day together in the sunshine, and we made just over £200 profit. It's a brilliant way of passing a Sunday and I can't recommend it enough.

Come on clear out your attic and have a go.