Noa Castro

I grew up going to the Mercado de Abastos with my grandmother every Saturday, and the granite market hall is still where I feel most at home with a camera in my hand. I move between the seafood stalls and the empanada counters, explaining which fish only turn up certain months and why an octopus stall here does the cooking itself rather than sending it elsewhere. I keep my sessions unhurried, since a good market visit was never something to rush. What I enjoy about guiding this way is showing the same stalls I have known my whole life to someone on another continent.