Besides sniffing out local bakeries, on any roadtrip my first stop in a new town is always the antique shop. I map journeys not by renowned wineries, lauded restaurants or boutique spa hotels, but what online reviewers rated as the best purveyors of old wares in an area. The lure is twofold: there just might be a bargain hidden away, and you can learn much about an area by seeing what has been left behind.
Right now we can’t visit the pyramids or Stonehenge, but we can delve into our own history by fossicking in the dusty aisles of a junk shop for artefacts with local provenance. I love going through wooden milk crates of old photos showing the town before footpaths were laid or smiling newlyweds outside the Town Hall. Or reading postcards from someone’s Aunty Betty on the wonders of Dunk Island or picturing tartan and bagpipes from cousin Janet’s visit to Scottish-themed aclean in NSW.
As you run your hand over an intact picnic set from the ’50s, it’s easy to imagine a happy family packing it in the FJ Holden for a Sunday excursion to a national park. Other people’s junk conjures up a sense of history – an antique shop is a gallery and museum combined, depicting aspects of everyday life. Interesting pieces needn’t be worth a fortune. On a recent roadtrip I spied wooden paddles from a local surf club, a tea-towel dating back to the launch of Coffs Harbour’s Big Banana in 1964, and a well-thumbed copy of The Ampol Book of Australiana from the ’60s that parents might have bought to keep the kids entertained on long roadtrips.
Another perk: easy conversation flows with locals…
This article is from Escape, you can read the full article here: