這是我去年去過的一間溫哥華車模店，鋪子雖然不大，但設計得很別致，店主也很有人情味，是我最喜歡的其中一間。

Wilkinson’s Automobilia has all things collectible in cars from scale models to various manuals.

Ted Wilkinson holds a miniature car, one of many in his store. Brendan McaLeer/special to the sun

The hobby shop has basically disappeared — it’s hard for the small guy to compete on price with a bulk buyer like Walmart. – Ted Wilkinson, owner of wilkinson auto

At some point, probably while I wasn’t paying attention, adulthood snuck up on me. Suddenly, I’m a taxpayer and a mortgage-holder, and — ulp — somebody’s dad.

Luckily, walking through the doors into Wilkinson’s Automobilia resets the clock; hey presto, I’m 10 years old again!

This year, the tiny little nook of a shop celebrates a quarter-year of operation since the Wilkinson brothers first hung up their shingle. They started out selling automotive books out of a 400-square-foot showroom, barely enough space to swing a catalytic converter.

Seeking to expand their offerings, Doug and Ted got the brain wave of placing scale models on their limited shelf-space, and things just took off from there. The shop grew like a living thing, expanding then expanding again, sending out its tendrils deep into the building.

These days, it’s the sort of Byzantine labyrinth that captures the imagination — a store that wouldn’t be out of place in Harry Potter’s Diagon Alley. The entry room is ablaze with spotlights reflecting off display cases, reams of racing arcana arrayed around glass shelving packed with Ferraris, Maseratis, Porsches.

Wend your way into the back of the place and there’s further treasure to be found: floor-to-ceiling 1/18th-scale die cast Americana, a BMW Z8 big enough that your dog could ride in it, a tiny diorama of a ’70s F1 racer in such detail that each sparkplug wire is individually crafted. Look up, and the upper shelves are crammed right to the rafters with a rainbow of Chilton and Haynes models for every sort of car imaginable (from back when engines weren’t fitted with plastic covers and DIY wasn’t frowned upon by the manufacturers).

Peek around a dark corner, and there are rows of old hot-rodding magazines stretching back for 20 feet or more. Another room holds collections of classic Dinky cars, a series of vintage racing prints, metal drawers full of brochures and owner’s manuals for long-dead brands.

It’s a place unlike any other in B.C., and with few comparables in North America: a hodgepodge mishmash of automotive you-name-it. Of course, that’s just the stuff out front – you ought to see the backroom.

Ted Wilkinson, sole proprietor for some time now, is a pretty interesting guy. What kind of mind takes on a constantly rolling project like this? I ask him about his own personal car history: he’s got a Ducati, and a classic trials motorbike, and a ’60s Lotus Elan undergoing a bolts-up restoration – and a Pontiac Aztec. Kind of explains a lot, actually.

While the store seems busy today, Wilkinson points out that the rise of eBay and Amazon has hurt the small business owner. “The hobby shop has basically disappeared — it’s hard for the small guy to compete on price with a bulk buyer like Walmart.”

He takes me behind the scenes, into a crowded room that’s even more chock-a-block than the front space. There are old Lexus press kits on the wall, a drawer full of DeSoto operator’s manuals, and on the floor a veritable drift of new models and books waits to be catalogued. “We could close the doors for six months (to organize) and still not make a dent in things,” Ted remarks with a laugh.

Here, tucked in around the bulging shelves, is the electronic part of the store, with two staff members photographing and cataloguing the seemingly endless amount of stuff, and getting it out on the Web. Original magazines and brochures find their way to Europe, hard-to-find die-cast models get shipped South; but even as fast as it goes out, the tide keeps coming in.

As we stand chatting, a well-dressed older woman comes to the counter. She’s not looking for something specific; rather, her husband has recently died and left a large collection. Would the store be willing to help?

In the time I am there, two similar phone calls come in. It’s a sad part of the business, but the changing demographics of collectors mean that many of the older items in the store are showing up as part of estate sales, or because an elderly owner needs to downsize as they’re leaving their house for a smaller apartment.

As the demographics change, so, too, does what’s collectible. The classic Dinky and Matchbox cars that might have been part of a ’50s childhood aren’t of the same interest to Generation X or Y, or the so-called Millennials. They might instead collect ’80s supercars, or be interested in the resurgence of the 1/43rd scale style: a shelf here holds such oddities as a 1981 Pontiac Bonneville Brougham and a ’60s Amphicar.

Even as things change, they remain the same. The scale of what’s popular might change, or the decade the cars are from; books might wax and then wane in appeal.

However, the look on the face of somebody walking into this place for the first time on a wet and windy afternoon is always the same: it’s the look of someone discovering that there’s still some magic left in the world.