Bargain Conversion

Personally, I have never been a great fan of flea markets/car boot sales/second hand shops.

Although rooting around in other peoples’ old stuff can be voyeuristically satisfying, I have never quite understood the attraction of then buying it. And don’t get me wrong, it’s not because I think I am above it -- far from it. But having spent a large part of my life moving countries every few years I have become extremely materialistically streamlined, dust-gathering knick-knacks not featuring heavily on my packing lists. Especially as I am usually limited by the excess luggage allowance on the infamous orange airline, which at five euros a kilo, generally makes you leave the kitchen sink behind.

However, despite my reliance on the above mentioned mode of transport, I am quite ecologically aware, and becoming increasingly economically aware, so this week I thought it was about time I hit the German flea markets to see what recycled bargains there might be on offer.

Dance club turned midnight market

Flea markets are an integral part of German culture, a far cry from the English car boot sale, which generally consists of a myriad of stalls offering plastic Star Wars figures, broken toasters and a million lighters for a pound. Often located in a multi-storey car park, unless you are a hardcore bargain hunter, these aren’t generally the nicest places to spend your precious Sunday morning.

I didn’t have to worry about losing a lie-in for my first German flea-market, however, as it started at 8 pm and took place in a local nightclub in Kreuzberg, better known for thrashing heavy metal concerts than Nachtflohmärkte.

Despite the lingering smell of stale cigarette smoke and old beer, the transformation from club to marketplace was remarkable. Rows of tables lined the dance floor, covered in the obligatory other people’s old stuff: clothes, books, DVD’s and an assortment of (possibly broken) electrical equipment. The stage had tables and chairs set up on it, where people sat around chatting, discussing their purchases over a beer or three from the bar, whilst the DJ booth was occupied by a smiley man playing reggae music.

Strange visit from Dr. Hartz

About half way through the evening, a man in a white coat introduced himself on stage as Doctor Hartz, offering free advice and a Sprechstunde to those affected by the Hartz IV reforms currently changing the welfare system here in Germany. A bizarre, but somehow befitting touch.

I’m not sure whether it was the reggae (shopping malls should really cotton onto that and ditch the muzak), or the bottle of Berliner Pilsner, but my friend and I had a great time sifting through other peoples’ old stuff and found some real gems in the piles. A few one euro DVDs and some equally inexpensive classic German novels later, I left a converted bargain hunter.