It's always been a Motown with a difference, Turin in northern Italy. Reputedly settled 2,300 years ago by a Celtic tribe, it was the Emperor Augustus who did the real development. Today there's a beautifully baroque city of churches and palaces and within its cathedral, is the famous shroud, claimed to be the burial cloth of Christ. From Andrew Hamilton in Turin.
It's in a scenic location too, with the Alps encircling the city in a protective embrace. The history and situation almost belie the gritty industrial character that came with another real development, the 20th century growth of Fiat.
We flew into Turin on Monday night and, like all our visits over almost 35 years, it was Fiat-inspired. If diary calculations are correct this, incredibly, was the 102nd time: outwardly nothing much has changed since visit 101.
But the business-as-usual mood is punctured in restaurants and bars with talk of the decline and reversal of Fiat's fortunes, now brought into fresh focus with the demise of its great patriarch, Giovanni Agnelli.
The man in the very noisy, highly atmospheric Urbani restaurant put it succinctly: "Most of us in Turin thought Fiat was invincible, especially with Gianni at the head. Now that certainty has been taken away from us. It's a fight for survival and we aren't used to hearing that sort of thing about Fiat."
Nobody really knows what will happen to Fiat, even with post-Agnelli restructuring. But many of us remember its glory days in the late 1960s and early 1970s: cars such as the 127, launched in 1972, found huge acceptance on Irish and European markets. It and the Renault 5 were the supermini pioneers: Ford's Fiesta only got into production five years later. A step up from the 127 was the 128. Both were compact but roomy, mainly because of the tranverse engine and front-wheel-drive layout. The 127 and 128 boosted Fiat's appeal in the Irish market and the marque accounted for 17 and 18 per cent of new car sales for most months of the year.
There was a later dark - or maybe brown - side to Fiat's success with the 127 and 128: rust. It was a problem that was to affect the early Irish-assembled Japanese models as well, but Fiat bore the brunt of the motoring public's long memory through falling sales.
Fiat's strength on the Irish market in the late 1960s and early 1970s was surpassed in Italy where it enjoyed a market share of well over 60 per cent. It was a somewhat unreal situation, however. Japanese brands were already enjoying growth in other European countries but they were restricted through a quota system from competing in Italy.
Fiat's influence was also evident at the Turin motor show in the autumn. Fiat lavishly entertained motoring journalists from all over the world. Their principal duty was to attend the Fiat press conference which was taken by Gianni Agnelli and he fielded their questions with confidence and assurance. We recall his irritation when asked about Alfa Romeo building its new Alfasud small car at a new plant near Naples. The Agnelli belief was that Alfa Romeo had no business building small cars: that was the business of Fiat.
The Agnelli press conference at the Turin show was a flamboyant affair that symbolised the power and influence of Fiat in Italy above all, a power and influence that other car manufacturers in their countries could never emulate.
We last saw and heard Agnelli at Fiat's centenary banquet in 1999 attended by the Italian president and most of the government. Agnelli spoke in strong impeccable English, saying that there were more chastened times ahead, and remembering that the road for a car maker isn't always an easy, smooth ride. Sadly he isn't making that very bumpy journey with Fiat any more.