Whether it’s the thrill of rummaging through someone else’s stuff, of finding hidden treasures or of getting a bargain, I’m not really sure – all of those things, plus some, I’ve no doubt. However, since I go to church on Sundays, I rarely get to go to car boots, except when on holiday (there are good ones in Cromer, Sheringham and the Isle of Wight – all regular holiday destinations for our family), though our main stay (and I should add at this point that each of my four kids love a good car boot) is bank holidays. Now, bearing in mind that Easter bank holiday everything was rained off, imagine my excitement and anticipation this morning when I woke up and it was sunny and dry.
Then try to imagine my disappointment when we end up driving pretty much all the way around Leicestershire to find that all of the regular car boots (Croft, Saddington, A47, etc) those that I felt certain would be on, were all closed, cancelled, postponed – call it what you will. We drove from 8:30 until 11 o’clock! And when we finally found one that was open (Quorn) there were only about 10 people selling and a gazillion people buying and if the truth be told there was nothing actually worth buying. It was so busy they were parked on the verges all the way up the road – I wonder if they too had circumnavigated the entire county in search of the allusive car boot sales.
And what really gets up my nose is that my brother Julian in Birmingham has a really good car boot that he is able to go to every Saturday and regularly comes home each week laden with goodies. The picture shows just an average haul, and it all cost him about tupence h’apenny. I mean, just look at it! In contrast, when I asked one of the vendors at the sale I was at today about the price of a broken awl (I was determined to go home with something!) he wanted £4! I'd have um-ed and ah-ed if he'd said 20p. Where do these people think they are – Christies?