Antique hunting is best in buildings that were built for something else entirely. A former warehouse near the river, its brick walls still smelling of the industry that left decades ago.
A dead retail space so massive you can walk for an hour without retracing your steps.
A coastal pavilion where the lighting is good enough to see the grain on old walnut from across the room. I have lost entire afternoons pulling out drawers to find school slates from the 1920s, flipping paintings to discover second paintings hidden underneath…