Several weekends ago I took an afternoon leap into middle-age-dom and attended the Hampton Court Palace Flower Show.

Now, before I am cruelly accused of being older than my (relatively) tender years, I should note that I was primarily there for the opportunity to catch up with my friend Kate, a contemporary with a similar penchant for a well-trimmed hedge or a particularly fragrant fleur. We’re cultured! Not old!

That little caveat out of the way, then…

Kate’s garden-mad Mum has attended the Hampton Court Palace Flower Show several times and she proffered some valuable wisdom: go on the Sunday afternoon. Sunday is the last day of the six-day show, and at 4:30 (the show closes at five) just about everything goes on sale.

Flowers for sale

So amazing was this sale, we were told, that it more than made up for the price of admission (£22 for a day ticket, or £17 for a late-entry ticket, which we opted for). Fair enough, we thought – let’s see what all the hype is about.

The setting was, of course, stunning. The event itself was part trade show, part exhibition, part plant emporium and, of course, part village fete (food, music, face painting and the like). Kate and I arrived at about 3:30, bought some tea and began roaming through the different display gardens.

We didn’t have to look far to find evidence of serious gardeners engaged in some full-on horticultural wrangling. Obvious example: just about everyone is in wellies, Crocs (Kate) or flip-flops (yours truly). What’s more, the HCPFS is filled with plant porters – these vigorous, wholesome-looking teenagers striding around in hi-vis vests and sunglasses, pushing wheelbarrows laden with plants en route to the plant crèche (yes, you read that right) to rest amongst floral kin whilst their new owners keep on shopping.

Behold, the plant porter

The main shopping area consisted of two huge marquees, one for flowers and one for vegetables. Each housed a veritable honeycomb of plant stalls, and at each stall was a sign confirming, in no uncertain terms, that the sale would begin at 4:30 and not a moment before. Our bargain-hunting antennae began to quiver with expectation… what kind of sale was this going to be?

Finally, the clock struck 4:28… 4:29… 4:30. On cue, male voice sounded over the PA system, “Ladies and gentlemen, it is now four-thirty. Let the sell-off… BEGIN!”

Let it be said now, you haven’t lived until you’ve seen a pensioner clad in RHS commemorative edition wellies strong-arm a sullen teenager (his parents ran the greenhouse; I asked) into giving her three for two on some specific hydrangea bushes. It’s madness. Sharks in well-chummed water have nothing on the septuagenarian garden set when there’s a rare shrub on the table.

The great flower sell-off: a brisk business

Getting into the spirit of things, Kate and I set ourselves a challenge – how many plants could we get for just £1? The answer was four: two cranberry plants, a strawberry plant and a tray of lettuces.

But very quickly, it became apparent that the army of plant-sellers were out to do just that – sell. Forget about turning a profit, by five o’clock they just wanted to get rid of the plants so they wouldn’t have to haul them home again. Accordingly, my sidekick and I agreed a spend increase was in order, so we upped the limit to £7 and filled our boots. (Arms, handbags and one godsent Tesco carrier bag, more accurately.)

Here’s what we bought, begged for, and dragged back to the car:

2x cranberry plants (free)

1x strawberry plants (£1)

1x tray lettuce plants (free)

1x pot sweetpeas (four in the pot) (£5)

5x packets lettuce seeds (free)

2x pots tall yellow marigold-type flowers (£1)

6x pots assorted pink, yellow, cream sun-loving flowers (free)

Our herbaceous haul

Perhaps one of the most entertaining parts of the day was the trek back to the car. Once the punters have bought all they can carry (sometimes more than), there is what I can only describe as an exodus back to the parking lot. People stagger towards home, bent over under the weight of their floral hauls, with some small children left to guard mountains of plants while their parents – presumably – relay the goods back to the car.

The floral exodus

As with a population at the start of a migration, there’s a sense of excitement, with strangers complimenting each other on their finds and commenting on the weather. Yet several hundred meters into the walk, I began to see small, less-than-exciting plants lying by the wayside, jettisoned by weary folk who could no longer support the weight of a prize rhododendron and that scraggly tomato plant. (Alas Kate and I were on the cusp of an act of herbicide of our own and simply could not carry anything more; otherwise, that tomato plant would have been mine.)

The Hampton Court Palace Flower Show was an enjoyable day out. It wasn’t a cheap day, with the £17 admission, but the crazily low plant prices made it worthwhile. In addition to my entrance fee, I paid £2 for tea and £3.50 for my share of the herbaceous haul.

All in, that’s £22.50 for a strawberry plant, a cranberry plant, half a tray of lettuce, three packets lettuce seeds, two huge sweetpea plants, a pot of yellow marigold-type flowers, three more bright flower pots, tons of compost and a chilled day out with a good friend (you can’t put a price on that!).

Having spent more than my share of days at B&Q and similar retailers, I can confidently say I got value for money at the Hampton Court Palace Garden Show. My last similar shopping trip cost about £30, so while I only saved about £7.50, it was still worth the journey!