Villegiatura, the Italians call it. Or they did, once upon la belle époque time, when Europe’s wealthy turned holidaying into an elaborate art form – with entourages of butler, housekeeper and private chef, and travel trunks packed with all the finery they needed to stay for a while.
Lake Como in northern Italy’s Lombardy region was a popular hangout, what with the Bergamo Alps reflected in its jewel-like waters and a 160-kilometre-long shoreline dotted with ochre-hued villages and opulent Renaissance mansions. Two hours north of Milan, up near the Swiss border, it was a world out of time, in flow with the seasons. Spring brought the scent of blossom and promise. Summer meant cin cin-ing spumante flutes under parasols. Autumn turned hillsides russet and gold, and put truffles and green olive oil on the dining table.
