Fourth Day in Turin, Missing Rome

Partial view from our kitchen and living room

from Sarah's notebook, December 19, 1998

Two solid days of rain and clouds and cold. Then on the third day, yesterday, I wake in the darkness, make coffee, go to the bedroom to give Tom his cup, hang out and plan the day a bit. I go back to the kitchen after the sun has come up and discover, all across the back side of the apartment – 180 degrees – a view of snow-covered mountains. Glistening. Sparkly pink in the early light. We try to photograph it, but it’s impossible to capture.

In the afternoon, when Ben and I return from a meeting with the preside of the international public school we hope he’ll get into, we sit on the balcony and gape. The sun is warm enough we can luxuriate in just our sweaters. The sun makes me drowsy and I go catch a quick nap on the couch, the very top of one of the mountains visible even from my prone position. Then it’s back out to see the orange glow of the sunset.

We are blessed with views this trip. Because of the height (and the money that buys the height, of course) – if we were one floor lower we would not see the mountains. As it is, a skyscraper is going up right smack in the middle of our view, one of only two in the city, it seems. Wrapped in protective plastic, it’s ick. But it feels mighty ungracious to complain of this one inch that’s blocked, out of 20. My mouth stood open all afternoon in astonishment.

Funny, though, of course it made me think of our view in Rome, though it’s nothing like it. The intimacy of the centuries in that city. The medieval church towers still rise above the surrounding structures. There’s a jumble, but not an erasure, not a crowding, in our old neighborhood, at least: Monti and Celio. And other parts of the old centro.


Turin from across the River Po

Tom says Turin is like living on Via Corso in Rome, all up-scale shops. And some streets are. But there are side streets with funky boutiques, even if they are too expensive for us as well. Via Garibaldi, the pedestrian street, is like the Corso of Rome – Unfortunate, as it’s the most convenient way for us to walk. But we can find the hidden treasures, I know. Ben and I spotted a medieval church tower almost lost behind a Baroque façade. And who knows what’s inside. But the overall effect of the colonnaded streets and avenues is very appealing here, the 1882 cafes, the pharmacies since 1912 with their Art Nouveau wooden cabinets and trim. The chocolate shops. The piazzas. The mountains.

Sunrise reflected off the mountains