The Saturday stall

Crates, linen and a canvas roof the colour of sunrise. We spent a summer of Saturdays at one stall on the quay.

It opens at seven and is gone by noon. In between, half the town stops by: for bread, for a tablecloth, or just to hear how the week went.

“Nothing here has a price on it. You ask, and you get a story.”

Words by Clara Moss  ·  Photographs by Jon EkbergRead the feature