As part of our continued efforts to reduce the amount of stuff to be shipped around the world, we loaded both cars to the gunnels and headed to a garage sale at the French School near Bowsher. As seasoned car-booters in several continents (Mrs M once turned semi-professional), our stall dwarfed the others as opening time approached.
When the gates opened at 9am, there was a rush for Mrs M’s clothes rail of beautifully ironed, occasionally worn items which disappeared in a manner reminiscent of the piranha pool scene in ‘You Only Live Twice’. Women grabbed armfuls of clothing. One of them even made an attempt to pay for them. The rest disappeared while we were distracted by about twenty customers waving crumpled hundred baiza notes shouting ‘gimme blastic’ (a plastic bag). Oh well, at least it was going to the right people.
The rest of the time we haggled with people desperate to obtain anything at the lowest possible price. At one point, I noticed an extended family sitting on a huge pile of bags with enough of our stuff to fill a house.
In the end, we made just over a hundred rials which will be added to other proceeds to buy a few curtains and toilet brushes in the next house.
After note: thanks to Lucky from Oman Bicycle who not only helped us unload the car, but ended up fending off of groups of tenacious bargain-hunting women during the opening assault. Seems only fair to plug the shop again, see below.
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