Webb's market auction regular Alan, from Huntly, once found an empty double box in a pile of rubbish at a deceased estate. It turned out to be the packaging for a 1956 Rolex, and it earned him $400 from a British dealer. Mark, another Webb's regular, once saw the bidding for a stuffed cat start at $10 and go all the way to $2000. "It was just a raggedy old cat! And I hate cats," he says.
John once bought a shoulder-high wooden goat-horse. "It was a funny looking thing - but you sold it," admits his friend Christine, who prefers china and coloured glass, and knits while she waits for proceedings to begin at 6pm. John and Christine come up from Rotorua every Thursday for the market auction, leaving around midday and returning just before midnight. They bring sandwiches and buy chips when they stop for petrol.
We're all sitting on comfy lots (mostly sofas) among a glorious cramped jumble of camel bags, barbecues, vases, tea cosies, dolls and walking sticks. This is a world away - but also only two rooms away - from Webb's signature style of impressive artists hung cheek by jowl in front of discreetly bejewelled eastern suburbs types.
Last year, the Newmarket auction house hocked off a Ferrari for a record price of over a million. At the weekly market auction bidding starts at $10, although if you're cheeky enough you can get a bargain for as low as $5 (plus buyer's premium of 15 per cent).
But even some looking at antiques next door deign to pop their noses into the back room, says auctioneer and estate assessor James Hogan: "There's a broad appeal to the Steptoe and Son feel about the place."