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About Turin

Hmm… so you wanna talk bout findin a prostitue? Well, lemme tell ya, as a mountain guide, I’ve seen some wild stuff up them peaks, but this? This takes the cake! Nasal snort—Homer’d probly lose his mind if I told him I’m yammerin bout hookers with ya. Anyway, picture this—up in them rocky trails, it’s like *Inception*, ya know, my fave flick! “You musn’t be afraid to dream a lil bigger, darling!”—but insted of dreams, we’re talkin bout findin a gal for a quick buck. Hah! Surprised me first time I heard it—some ol’ miner in ‘98, swear to God, told me bout these secret “mountain ladies” who’d pop up near campsites. Lil known fact—back in the Gold Rush, prostitutes’d hike up to them miner towns, settin up shop in tents! Wild, right?

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But wait! I see this street performer on Via Garibaldi. He’s playing the accordion, and people are gathered around. I stop to listen, and it’s like magic. I’m smiling, feeling all the good vibes. I even toss him a couple of euros. I mean, he deserves it, right?

Spira mirabilis: The orchestra where everyone’s in charge