Games inspire an urban makeover
Italy’s fourth-largest city is an oddly eclectic mix of haughty royal splendor and working-class grit. Turin is undergoing the now-customary Games facelift, but at the same time a more thorough image makeover which the coming of the Games is reinforcing. Tractor-filled squares being repaved were cordoned off and the Via Roma, a central shopping street, was a frozen-mud obstacle course for the ever-stylish Italians, ducking in and out of the ubiquitous cafes, bars and chocolate shops. Scaffolding and cranes cluttered the skyline, half-obstructing the Alps that both beckon and loom to the north and west. Some of the ongoing infrastructure work, such as a new metro and fast train link to Milan, will be finished only well after the Games. Visiting Athenians would feel right at home in this focused pre-Olympic chaos, a smaller, chillier version of what was transpiring 18 months ago in the Greek capital. Amid the renovation detritus, Turin, an industrial center and home of carmaker Fiat as well as Italy’s spectacularly successful football team, Juventus, offers plenty of the expected – aging suburbs, cluttered train depots, dusty container yards – and much of the unexpected as well. The formerly run-down Mirafiori district is a newly hip place to find affordable housing, while the statue-studded city center is attempting a contemporary artistic turn against a backdrop of glittery Savoyard palaces, now preserved by UNESCO as world heritage sites. The palazzos and piazzas are linked by tunneled walkways, while the city also hosts the world’s second-largest collection of Egyptian treasures and Italy’s impressive national film museum as well. The latter is housed in the city’s landmark building, the «Mole Antonelliana,» initially earmarked as a synagogue. It also boasts a glass-enclosed elevator offering a spine-tingling ride to an observation deck with a stunning view. The rules forbid visitors from taking «works of art and antiques» up in the cramped lift with them – a comically superfluous prohibition and a curious take on Italians’ love of culture. As the first city (or so it is claimed) to introduce solid chocolate to the world, Turin is also home to the Cioccolato (chocolate fair) each March; the rest of the year you can buy, alongside a Torino Card for buses and trams, a «chocolate pass» and gorge your way around for a day and a modest fee. The cost of everyday items, admittedly before the inevitable Games markup, seemed if anything lower than in Greece; a «coffee» (a microscopic espresso with a serious kick) is 2 euros; a cappuccino runs around 2.50. Compare that with downtown Athens. Turin is even said to be a center for witchcraft. Racers hoping for an inside track to a long-sought Olympic medal but wary of doping control may well be on the prowl for a counter-hex or two as part of their pre-competition strategy. The writer Umberto Eco, a local resident, based his mystery-thriller novel «The Name of the Rose» on the austere, hilltop San Michele monastery not far from town. For all its well-ordered layout, there is more than meets the eye in the Piedmontese capital.
