When we first moved out of the city, I did begin to miss all my favourite secondhand haunts. For me, the dizzying range of vintage, antique and preloved paraphenalia available in the big smoke is one mighty good reason for living there. But once we'd settled into country life, and familiarised ourselves with the landscape, it wasn't long before I'd mapped out a hinterland hunting trail. Happily, it's a work in progress, as every now and then, around some familiar or unfamiliar bend, a new barn, or shop or market springs into view.
One of the first spots to make its mark on my trusty, internal satnav was the picturesque Cooran Trading Post, and it's remained a favourite ever since - just as much for the building as for the contents:


Look indeed - outside as much as in I say. This dear old workshop is vernacular architecture at its unpretentious, well-worn best. I can't help but love it. I'm a Queensland gal, you see. Born and bred. Memories of corrugated iron, faded red-brown weatherboards and rough-hewn wooden stumps are embedded in my DNA. This old shed and me, we understand each other.


Yes, it really is this picture postcard perfect around the hinterland. Cores of ancient volcanoes popping up between rolling paddocks of green. Carpets of lush grass. Luscious grass. The sort of grass where your feet sink in to your ankles. The sort of grass that makes you want to leap down on all fours and roll around like a puppy.
Okay enough of that. Time to head inside for a lovely, leisurely scrounge around.
I have a secondhand store checklist, of sorts, and Cooran Trading Post ticks all the boxes:

• Clean and organised - yet with the feeling hidden treasure may be lurking
• Nice owners
• Realistic prices
• Chance for some gentlemanly bargaining
• Floorboards creak in a satisfying kind of way 

Cooran Traders is conveniently open all weekend. My tip is to avoid the highway and take a cheery Sunday drive along the more charming road less travelled, through Cooroy and pretty Pomona. You can visit the Juicy Junk Shed on the way.
Which is a story for another day...