That's my lot

Bidding is the new betting - one lot and you are hooked. That was my experience at Kidson-Trigg auction rooms in Highworth.

From antique toilets to leopard skin rugs (head included), chainsaws to bachelors' chests (the wooden, not six-pack variety), this place sells everything.

And customers with more conventional tastes are hardly left wanting because vast quantities of ceramics, glass, silverware, jewellery paintings, carpets and furniture also go under the hammer. Prices are equally diverse, ranging from £5 to in excess of £5,000.

Kidson-Trigg has been in business for 13 years and trade is brisk. With The Planks auction house in Old Town having closed in January and Marlborough Auction Rooms shutting last year, there is not much local competition, apart from a small auction in the village hall at Hook, run periodically by Graham Singer.

Kidson-Trigg's owner, Martin Kidson-Trigg, 56, believes auctioneers are born, not made.

He said: "I was fascinated with the idea of selling things, ever since my father took me to cattle markets in Shropshire."

He became an auctioneer aged 18, selling furniture and cattle in Marlborough Auction Rooms.

Martin never tires of the work. "The variety is endless. Every day you see something different," he said.

The trade is also full of surprises - such as a house clearance which unearthed a collection of rare motorbikes.

"It was absolutely amazing. One of the bikes, a Brough Superior, was in bits but it still made £29,000," he said.

Inspired by his tales and TV programmes such as Bargain Hunt, Flog It! and Cash in the Attic, I decided to try my hand at the antiques hunting game.

I say hand because I did not quite have the nerve to bid by winking, nodding or flaring my nostrils.

But auctioneer Charles Wells, 32, is familiar with all sorts of gestures.

He said: "There are some eccentric signs, but you get used to them. Sometimes they just stare at you, raise their eyebrows or twirl a finger. Dealers like to be discreet but first time bidders tend to flap about, scared of not been seen."

I fell into the flapper category and waved my bidding card with anxious abandon. The sale started at 9.30am as Charles announced: "Lot one: six Johnson Brothers oval plates. £10, I'll take 12, 15, 18, 20, 25, 28, 30. Finished at 30.

"Lot two: six bone china plates. Pretty lot, £5, 10, 12? This is cheap. What's wrong with these? Selling below the estimate bid, let's not dwell. Hammer's raised, done at 10. Lot three . . . "

With 890 lots to shift, he needed to go quickly. Charles had bidders on the edge of their seats (in my case lot 872, one of 10 French-style dining chairs with upholstered oval back serpentine seats, very comfortable).

Fellow auction addict Sylvia Carter sat next to me on some stunning regency mahogany.

What started as her hobby has now become a source of income.

Sylvia, 61, from Moredon, said: "When my husband, Clive, lost his job at EMI we tried selling the things we bought at auction on the internet. It worked and we now have a business called China Carousel."

Wade, Royal Doulton, and Wemys are just some of the names she knows will sell well. So when Sylvia picked up five china piggy banks for £75, she looked tickled pink.

Sylvia also warned me about 15 per cent buyer's premium and VAT to be paid on top of the bidding price. Which means her "ever so collectable" pigs actually cost £88.23.

I decided to go for lot 32, a Dartington glass cranberry ovoid vase. Raising my trusty number 81 bidding card, I was still in the running at £10, 12, 15, 18.

"I'll take £20," Charles said. But there were no takers, so the "pretty thing" was mine for £18. Fantastic. On a roll, I took a shine to a Wedgewood tea service. Unfortun-ately I was bidding against a tweed-suited man who had the 'loaded from London' look. Bowing out straight away, I stopped flapping at £6 because fancy china is so pass.

Lot 178, a black morocco jewellery box with assorted costume jewellery, proved a bit of a non-starter. Although I had yet to inspect the contents, it was surely worth £6. Strangely, no-one else shared this view.

Charles was equally puzzled.

He said: "£6, 8, 8, 8. Not very dear this, £6 all finished. That's a bargain."

Later I got chatting to Penny Morgan. I noticed she had spent a small fortune on ceramics, glass and silver with consummate subtlety. An experienced dealer, she owns the Marlborough Parade Antiques Centre with her partner, Gary Wilkinson.

Penny said: "I suppose there is a thrill in the bidding process. I spend about £2,000 to £3,000 a time here. It's fun but hard work too. You have to have your wits about you."

She carefully previewed the lots the night before, marking down what she wanted and deciding a maximum bid.

As for the popular TV shows about buying and selling antiques, she cannot stand them.

She said: "They are a load of rubbish, especially Bargain Hunt. David Dickinson drives me round the bend. You should buy from auctions then sell, not the other way round,"

Antiques Roadshow is the only one she watches - apparently the experts know their stuff and don't rely on catchphrases like "cheap as chips."

After lunch, furniture took the centre stage. Again there was something to suit every pocket, from £1 for a stained oak standard lamp to £2,000 for a Georgian walnut fall-front escritoire (a nice writing desk).

Best of all were the jumble boxes, containing all manner of memorabilia, books and intriguing light fittings. Some old Punch annuals caught my eye.

Penny clearly had similar ideas. So we stood eyeball to eyeball, shrewdly bidding for that elusive bargain.

"£10, 12, 15, 18, 20, 23, 25, 28, 30," Charles commanded. At which point I admitted defeat and let her win the bundle. After the sale I asked if she would part with the two Punch annuals.

It turned out she was more interested in the 1950s Royal Doulton Bunnykins bowl and a set of butter knives lying at the bottom. So we struck a deal - £10 for both of them.

The colour pictures inside are wonderful and can be quite lucrative, according to Colin Meays of Dominic Winter Book Auctions in Swindon.

He said: "The volumes are only worth about £10 each. But if you mount the colour illustrations, they could be worth far more."

Thrilled with my lots, making a profit seemed immaterial. For richer or poorer, my day at Kidson-Trigg proved one of priceless pleasure.

The next Kidson-Trigg auction is on Thursday, August 21 from 9.30am. Contact 01793 861000 for details.

Totting up the value of those little treasures

Ann Farthing, who runs Penny Farthing Antiques in Victoria Road, Old Town, valued Victoria's purchases.

Lot 32: Dartington glass cranberry ovoid vase and two drinking glasses. The glasses took me by surprise and were a debatable bonus. There isn't much demand for brandy glasses these days, especially when they are engraved with the names Arthur and Elizabeth. PAID: £21.18. WORTH: £38.

Lot 178: Black Morocco jewellery box, containing costume jewellery. PAID: £7.06. WORTH: £15 for the box, £10 for the jewellery.