Turin's Turn

Maggiora led us down a rickety construction stairway into the 75-foot-deep maw of the Vinzaglio station site, where we picked our way around debris to have a chat with the foreman. The Italian businessmen asked technical questions (Maggiora gave me a running commentary in English), but I was more curious about buried treasures.

I imagine that every Italian city rests on an exquisite landfill of ancient amphora and marble columns, so I asked if anything good had surfaced during the tunneling. Turns out there were enough archaeological finds to fill a small museum based at the Collegno station.

The Olympic events most likely besieged by fans will take place at the Palavela, where figure skaters will hit the ice. The existing 1960s-era structure was groovy, baby, but its interior has been completely gutted and rebuilt, leaving intact the original soaring wings that serve as a roof.

Before the remodeling began, Maggiora told us, cameramen assessed the best vantage points for shooting skaters' feet, and camera locations were designed accordingly. Workers labored 24/7 to have the retrofit completed for the European Figure Skating Championships in January. They made it -- a good sign for the rest of the construction, which includes eight sports facilities, two additional Olympic villages for mountain events and seven "media villages."

The most ambitious project has come to symbolize the city's will to move beyond its grubby industrial past. Turin is undergrounding the railroad lines that sliced the town in half. When the job is finished in 2011, Maggiora said, the resulting boulevard will become the "cultural center of the city," with major contemporary sculptures, a library and a university extension. So what about that Shroud? You can see photos of the famous relic at the Chapel of the Holy Shroud, but the real thing is rarely revealed. True believers can learn more at the Museum of the Shroud, where the cloth is stashed -- away from the public -- until its next appearance at the chapel. Maggiora said negotiations were underway with the Vatican for the relic to be displayed during the Olympics. "It's difficult, very difficult," she sighed, conjuring images of much prayer, many cigarettes and unknown quantities of espresso that would no doubt be involved in the discussions.

Otherwise, Turin offers plenty of worthy sights that tend to be overshadowed by the publicity-hogging religious relic.

The city's past reaches back to the Roman Empire, and bits of towers and city walls pop up here and there. But at its heart, Turin clutches some baroque masterpieces, linked by arcaded sidewalks that line nearly 10 miles of city-center streets. Most of the porticos, joined together by arches and elegant stone columns, are from the early 17th century, but some date as far back as the Middle Ages. Those along one side of Via Po even cover street crossings, built to protect the Savoy royal family, rulers of the Piedmont area in times past, on their strolls to the Po River.

Turin's grandest arcades also happen to lead you to some of the city's grandest cafes. When Italy was reunified in 1861, Turin was named the capital. But when the court decamped to Florence shortly thereafter, the bourgeois class rose to rule finance and industry -- as well as some of the swankiest cafes you'll ever see. Many of the best are tucked around the Piazza San Carlo (though, alas, the piazza itself is currently a construction zone).

Torinese love their chocolate, and you'll find gianduia -- the blend of chocolate and hazelnuts that was invented here -- in an array of intoxicating incarnations, from candies to gelato to specialty coffee drinks. Hot chocolate is a specialty, too. There's no better place to indulge than the opulent Caffe Torino or under the dazzling Murano-glass chandelier at the Caffe San Carlo. But stick your head into any cafe or confectioner that catches your fancy. You'll discover elaborate hand-painted walls, ornate ceilings and lavish crystal.

While you're in the area, stroll over to the Piazza Castello and take in the Palazzo Madama, which Maggiora claimed contains "the whole history of Turin." The palace incorporates portions of a Roman gate and a medieval castle, plus a wedding-cake baroque facade designed by 18th-century superstar Filippo Juvarra. And -- you guessed it -- the whole thing is under renovation, which is scheduled to be completed in December. Turin is known for its Egyptian museum, which claims the largest collection outside of Cairo. I didn't count mummies or total up tomb loot, but I'd guess London's British Museum can't be far behind. Most of the exhibits could use restaging, and a few labels would help, but for creepy-good unwrapped dead people from thousands of years ago, this place is hard to beat. And then there are the naughty paintings I discovered on one of the papyri . . .

Turin's Olympic logo supposedly echoes the city's tallest building, the 548-foot-tall, pointy-topped Mole Antonelliana. This architectural oddity, completed in 1863, was originally intended to be a synagogue. I suspect it was considered wildly futuristic at the time; now it just seems looming and quirky. The Mole houses the National Museum of Cinema, along with an observation platform perfect for surveying the mountains where Olympic ski events will take place, or grabbing a bird's-eye view of where construction has Turin's traffic snarled.

Will Turin get all that work completed in time for the Games? Somehow, you've got to believe a town that can perch a test track on a rooftop will figure out how to be ready for the Olympics.