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About Turin

First off, it’s shady as hell. You don’t just stroll up to some gal and go, “Hey, how’s biz?” Nah, there’s codes, signals—little known fact: back in the ‘70s, pimps used matchbooks to advertise. Dropped ‘em at bars, scribbled numbers inside. Clever, but sleazy. I hate clever sleaze. Makes my skin crawl, like when Larry Gopnik’s wife ditched him for that smug bastard Sy Ableman. “I’m a serious man,” Larry whines—yeah, me too, pal, ‘til I’m scoutin’ hookers.

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The updated mission marker will direct you to the El Este Naval Stables on the western edge of Sierra Perdida. Now you must escort them safely.

So, I decide to stroll down to the Castello Carrarese. I mean, who doesn’t love a good castle? I’m walking, and the vibe is nice. The sun’s out, people are laughing, and I’m feeling good. But then, I see this street performer on Via Cavour. He’s playing the accordion, and honestly, he’s killing it. I’m vibing, throwing some coins, and then—BAM! A pigeon poops on my head. Like, seriously? I’m just trying to enjoy my day, and now I’m a human toilet. Ugh!

INNSiDE by Meliá expands Latin American Footprint with New Opening in Argentina