Monday 18th March

It wasn’t even a real car boot sale, no muddy field in the cold and rain but about sixteen tables in the Columbine Community Centre in Walton-on-the-Naze.  The stalls consisted of a lady who specializes in quite lovely Caithness glass, paperweights and expensive glass ornaments, a couple of semi-antique dealers who will never lower their prices, a lady selling jewelry, another kiddies toys and one hand-made cards, and lots of dvds and books which never seem to sell, one lady selling apple pies and scones, and about six of us who were just selling whatever we wanted rid of.

It was pretty miserable and cold outside but warm indoors, and for many this was I think the main attraction, and most look as if they come here every week, meeting friends, having a bacon sandwhich and a cup of tea.  They wander disconsolately round ekeing out their pennies, buying an ornament here, a tea-towel there but not prepared to comtemplate anything over 50p.

There were about a hundred or so customers and we did sell, or almost give away, a few bits and pieces, Julia sold a few bars of soap, and I got rid of a couple of old lamps, a clock and one or two other bits that had been mouldering in the garage for years.  All in all we had a good time and had a few nice chats with other stall-holders.  But what is Britain reduced to – this car boot sale mentality, where almost everyone was over sixty, they all probably read The Mail and will undoubtedly vote UKIP in the European elections but may well revert back to the Tories a year later.  What are they living for?  Their daily soaps, gossip with neighbours in the co-op and a weekly car boot sale at the Columbine Centre.  Most seem almost scared of their own shadows – a quiet and desperately hard-up apology for a life.