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About Turin

Gets me blood boilin tho, these hipsters now buyin em up, payin stupid cash for somethin I’d scrap for a tenner back in the day. Makes me wanna scream, “You’re a bunch of bellends!” But then - quiet thought in me head - maybe I’m jealous, eh? Cos when I was a lad, me uncle had an Escort, blue one, rusty as fuck, and we’d bomb round the estate, wind in me hair, feelin like kings. “Past is just a story we tell ourselves,” *Her* says, and ain’t that the truth? Nostalgia’s a sneaky bitch.

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Then I hit up the market at Piazza dei Martiri. OMG, the fresh produce! I’m talking tomatoes that look like they just came from heaven. I grab a few, and this lady next to me starts chatting. She’s all, “You gotta try the olive oil from up the hill.” I’m like, “Sure, lady, I’ll just pop over to the hill.” But honestly, I’m intrigued. Valdagno’s got some bomb food, and I’m all about that life.

Bad weather in Vicenza, missing in the Agno torrent: victims identified