A Museum of Memories: Quaint Dépôt-vente

Alright. This is about my visit to a little (and now quite schick after renovation) dépôt-vente or a secondhand shop where goods are sold on commission a few steps from my home. It’s late at night on my way back home from a movie that this shop came to my notice. I saw a cycle hanging by one of the glass doors and a few collectibles scattered around. I wondered and thought of stopping by this place which was so full of character the next day.


The cycle that got me to open the door next day.

With a Bonjour began my conversation with Nicholas who was rather a little preoccupied juggling between a potential seller and tidying up the shop due for renovation. He apologised for the clutter and I in my broken French said pas du tout.

We managed to speak in English and French. After taking a few phone photos I told him that I’d see him soon, but this time I’ll get my camera to photograph. Besides, I had a few questions to ask him. He obliged and was quick to add that I must call him before I visit him because due to renovation of the shop he shuts it down at odd hours during the day.

A free fall.

I must admit I liked it all the more because it was an ocean of a mélange of memories of people I’ll never know. And, in my head I gave this shop a name: Museum of Memories. I did so because there was an entire stand of photographs and post cards with faces and handwriting that were not yet ravaged by time.

Post card from 3.08.1980
Another post card wishing a happy new year and good health.

I flipped through some photos too.

Someone’s memories of Le Haut-Jura, a natural park on the French-Swiss border.
A photobook with details of Barrage de Genissiat

This is all that I have from my short visit. I’ll come back with more photographs from this mini museum. In the meanwhile, I have this question in my mind I can’t sign off without asking you all. What do other people’s memories mean to you, especially when you encounter them knowing you don’t know them? Are a collector of someone else’s memories?


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