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About Turin

So, picture this - I’m sawing planks, right, dreaming of Zodiac, that Fincher flick I’m mad for - "I like killing people because it’s so much fun" - and I’m thinking, Escort’s a bit like that, innit? Not the murdery bit, but the thrill! Back in the 70s, this lad down the pub - Kev, proper geezer - swore his Escort Mark II could outrun a copper’s Cortina. Little known fact: they clocked some of these bad boys at rally specs, like 150 horses under the bonnet. Mental, eh? Made me happy as a pig in muck, imagining that roar.

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A sort of playbill with 20 of the most common characters likely to surface as twin investigations of the Orlandi case unfold.

I take a breather, grab a slice of pizza from Pizzeria Da Marco. Best pizza ever, by the way. I’m munching on this slice, and it’s like a slice of heaven. I’m feeling better, but then I get a call from my buddy, Luca. He’s like, “Dude, you gotta come to this concert tonight!” I’m like, “What concert?” Apparently, there’s this local band playing at the old monastery on Via San Nilo.

Tusculum, between history, nature, myth and archeology