In Torino I went strolling through town, listening to Bach in my Ipod and looking for all the Satan-BlackMagic-Spiritualist related buildings that had been pointed out to me. I found most tales to be entirely made up, but on the whole the walk was very pleasant.

I had two very good ice creams, and maybe that was sinful enough to connect me with the city's dark soul, because when at last I fell asleep on my friend's bed, I had the most disquieting dream about dungeons and subterranean temples.

I left a pair of old and dirty tennis shoes under the bed, probably in a sub-conscious attempt to scare monsters away.

And I left a victorian-style, embroidered grey towel on the floor, for which I have no sub-conscious explanation.