Brookmans Park boot sale.
Showing posts with label location: Brookmans Park. Show all posts
Showing posts with label location: Brookmans Park. Show all posts
Sunday, 28 October 2018
Sunday, 17 June 2018
17/06/18: Polar bear (boot sale, Brookmans Park)
Brookmans Park. Rather disturbing, especially since it was a real one.
Sunday, 24 September 2017
24/09/17: TSP (boot sale, Brookmans Park)
Sunday, 17 September 2017
Sunday, 30 July 2017
30/07/17: Boot sale, Brookmans Park
Back to the bootsale at Brookmans Park.
There were real dogs...
And less real dogs...
Cats, too...
We bought two LEGO models. The tank was £1.50. I had to barter with a slightly intimidating skinhead boy, who – in the absence of any adults – seemed to have the authority to negotiate a price. The submersible was £1 and contained a minifigure. These were real bargains, as elsewhere a minifigure on its own was being sold for as much as £3.
There were real dogs...
And less real dogs...
We bought two LEGO models. The tank was £1.50. I had to barter with a slightly intimidating skinhead boy, who – in the absence of any adults – seemed to have the authority to negotiate a price. The submersible was £1 and contained a minifigure. These were real bargains, as elsewhere a minifigure on its own was being sold for as much as £3.
Monday, 10 July 2017
09/07/17: Boot sale, Brookmans Park
I know it's not a "charity shop", but...
A hot day. We arrived at 10:45, just 15 minutes before the £1 entry fee was reduced to 50p, but they only charged us 50p anyway. It was a delight to walk up and down the 12 or so long aisles of stalls and tables set up in the big field. Some people don't even bother with a table and just spread out their items on bin liners on the grass. After a certain amount of rummaging by punters, these items can end up being a big, random heap of clothes, toys and other bits and pieces. Your commitment to bargain-hunting can be measured by how willing you are to sift through piles of almost-rubbish to find the gems.
There were many unusual items on offer, from a table painted or stencilled with "The Clash" to old mobile phones (some of them encrusted with dirt and mud) that seemed unlikely to ever work again. There were several old-school telephones as well.
There were fewer books this time, and not many vinyl LPs. A lot of fidget spinners, though – both second-hand and "new". With the craze already over, these are going to start becoming very common in charity shops.
I didn't have much change (lesson learned for next time), so was unable to indulge in buying numerous CDs. I did buy one. "How much are the CDs?" I asked the young lady at the stall? "Depends which ones," she replied. "Bruce Springsteen," I said, holding up a copy of Tunnel of Love. "50p," she said.
After an hour or so, the most urgent purchase was something to drink. "How much is a bottle of water?" "That's one pound, love."
One of the sellers had already had enough before midday, announcing that she was going home to drink cider in her garden. And who could blame her?
A hot day. We arrived at 10:45, just 15 minutes before the £1 entry fee was reduced to 50p, but they only charged us 50p anyway. It was a delight to walk up and down the 12 or so long aisles of stalls and tables set up in the big field. Some people don't even bother with a table and just spread out their items on bin liners on the grass. After a certain amount of rummaging by punters, these items can end up being a big, random heap of clothes, toys and other bits and pieces. Your commitment to bargain-hunting can be measured by how willing you are to sift through piles of almost-rubbish to find the gems.
There were many unusual items on offer, from a table painted or stencilled with "The Clash" to old mobile phones (some of them encrusted with dirt and mud) that seemed unlikely to ever work again. There were several old-school telephones as well.
There were fewer books this time, and not many vinyl LPs. A lot of fidget spinners, though – both second-hand and "new". With the craze already over, these are going to start becoming very common in charity shops.
I didn't have much change (lesson learned for next time), so was unable to indulge in buying numerous CDs. I did buy one. "How much are the CDs?" I asked the young lady at the stall? "Depends which ones," she replied. "Bruce Springsteen," I said, holding up a copy of Tunnel of Love. "50p," she said.
After an hour or so, the most urgent purchase was something to drink. "How much is a bottle of water?" "That's one pound, love."
One of the sellers had already had enough before midday, announcing that she was going home to drink cider in her garden. And who could blame her?
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