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Lot of plotting to land maps at auction
My addiction to auction sales is well known to Wee Paper readers, not to mention auctioneers who rely on folk like me to shift items vaguely classified as "various".
But, as they say, one man’s trash is another’s treasure, and over the years I have accumulated a fair amount of both categories. In a general sense I reckon to make the winning bid on around 10 per cent of occasions when I make an effort to catch the auctioneer’s eye, but last Saturday was a bit of a red-letter day for me when just about all my bids came good.
It was the vintage sale on the day before the Borders Vintage Agricultural Association rally – you know, the one that caused me grief in terms of envelopes and forms, but that was eventually sorted, where else, but in a sorting office, eh?
The term “vintage” is loosely applied in this sale as all manner of goodies are presented as lots. I won’t bore you with tales of acquiring bits of old tractor etc. – I can leave such yarns for times when I am among people of the same disposition. My big buy was not, in fact, anything at all to do with vintage or agricultural terms.
In order to tempt the punters, sale vendors have the habit of filling boxes with selections of nondescript items. This means bidders must gauge the worth of the collection to get what he or she desires.
In this case the box contained several cartons of plastic plugs for fixing things to walls etc., a pair of knackered motorbike goggles, some magnetic labels, a small leather-bound box and a big bundle of old maps in various states of disrepair.
And it was the latter that I was after.
Maps and me go back a long way. My first introduction to the Ordnance Survey map world came via a brilliant geography teacher called Jim Lowry who went on to write school textbooks on his subject, some of which are still in use.
Map reading was one snippet of the precious little store of useful knowledge I learnt at school (I was dim then – I still am). But, best of all, the knowledge stuck long enough to give me a slight edge on some of my fellow rookies during Army training.
So when auctioneer Billy Stott tapped the box with the maps with his stick I was right there. Another guy helped raise the price to 20 quid, but I got the deal.
Thinking they were rather dear maps, I stooped to lift my prize until a hand tapped my elbow. A man with a kind face reached into the box and lifted the small leather-bound box, telling me it was the reason for his bidding against me, and would I sell it?
Well, the box was as much use to me as a chocolate kettle, so we talked money, eventually shaking hands on a deal that halved the cost of my maps. Chuffed? You had better believe it!
Later, when I got the maps home, and after sorting out what I did not need, I inspected my prize.
Some were well worn, others weathered by time in the open air navigating a lucky man on a walking trip or two. Others were in mint condition, extensively covering parts of Scotland, and that collection, dating back to the Fifties and Sixties, included nearly all the Highlands and Islands, unfolding to reveal mountains and glens, coastlines and human habitation in the precise detail of the Ordnance Survey, according to the mapping style before the modern and more gimmicky modern editions.
The first map I picked out was of Arran and I spent an hour retracing the routes my Army mates and I walked, hobbled and at times staggered on exercises during in the Sixties. I will never again walk that ground in the same way, but when time hangs heavy on my hands I shall open a map or two and retrace my steps in the comfort of my armchair.
I feel slightly guilty at capturing another man’s maps and memories – but be he alive or departed, I hope somehow he will know I will take good care of them.
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Weather for Selkirk
Sunday 12 February 2012
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Temperature: 2 C to 7 C
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