The financial meltdown is obviously turning us into a nation of entrepreneurs, because it suddenly seems that absolutely everyone is trying to sell cars from their driveway or the side of the road.

I live in the Village of the Damned, and every single person here has a sheet of A4 pinned to the windscreen of something four-wheeled, from a Japanese-import Estima to a Rover 400 and a recently repainted Nissan Cabstar.

And the trend is spreading too. I know this because I drove into town earlier and it looked like the 1995 motorshow. There was a Mondeo, a Vectra and a Ford Probe sitting in an orderly line facing the traffic, none of them advertised for more than 400 notes.

Of course, the very fact a car is for sale by the side of the road suggests a degree of desperation on the part of the vendor, and that the shed itself is worthy of a wide berth. It’s almost as if everyone has decided to liquidate their one remaining mobile asset – and conveniently forgotten there is something called the internet which makes the process ten times easier.

So far I haven’t been tempted to actually stop and take a closer look at anything. That would be easy enough, because I’m usually wobbling along on my push bike. But even at the 0.3 mph at which I motivate myself, I can see enough to know that I’m not missing anything, from faded plastic bumpers, bald tyres, missing wheel trims to the ‘I’ve seen the lions at Longleat’ window sticker.