The flight landed more or less on time at about 10:15 PM. Torino airport’s gleaming modern terminals and baggage hall lead to a rather shabby waiting area. At that hour there were no more trains, only a bus at 10:45.
A slight drizzle at the beginning of the trip abruptly became a downpour. The bus to the Porta Nuova train station for some reason pulled up a block short leaving passengers to fend for themselves. Rather than a bustling hub of activity as in other European cities, the station in Torino looked gloomy, deserted save for a few people huddling under cover like half drowned rats. Construction barricades forced hapless pedestrians from under the covered archways into the rain. It took two crossings of the street in ankle deep water to find the taxi stand.
The first cab waiting held two ladies arguing (?) loudly in Italian, something about the airport. Another soon pulled up behind but the passenger who got out proceeded to carefully examine and question each and every coin the driver returned to him in change. The rain was falling in sheets.
Ten minutes and E. 10 later, arrival at the hotel. It is now midnight. At the desk the man in line before me gets into a long, involved discussion with the manager about Internet access. In the room by 12:10 AM.