Jennifer Carlile /

Michele Noce, left, wears a gas mask as he rides through Turin with a group of “Urban Cyclists” in a peaceful protest for a cleaner environment.

Although clearly unenthused by the protesters' motives, both said they didn’t care what went on at the university.

“I don’t think anything; I just work,” Dipari said. “But, my way is not everyone’s way.”

The men, both in their fifties, told me to look for another branch of the university that would be open and ask the students there if they knew anything about the absent protesters.

I made my way down a few more slushy streets and found a group of students on a smoke break. They appeared sympathetic to the protesters’ cause, but all declined to be formally interviewed.

They said that although some demonstrators were more extreme than others, and each had his or her own pet protest, all were generally against the Olympics because it masked the problems hidden beneath society’s surface.

Instead of a grand takeover of the university, they said classes had been postponed so that students could enjoy the Olympics, and that no-one was living in the facility. Nothing was organized, but about once a week a party was held, bands played, and young people gathered to drink there.

After a long, cold, wet walk, I began to think that the infamous protesters were more a bunch of idealistic students than a fighting force.

But, as I sat down to write my day’s account, I was told that NBC had been informed that security forces saw new reason to be alarmed: The Italian anarchists were being accused by the international community of anarchists of being weak and incapable. Could such taunting prompt them into action?