Three Nights on Lake Como.

Continuing my Italian travelogue from last week, today I am sharing all the details of our three-night stay on Lake Como.

We drove to Como from Lupaia in Tuscany. I’m reticent to recommend the same mode of transit, as it was a long schlep (six hours thanks to an hour-long jam owing to multiple car crashes), and I can’t say the A1 is particularly scenic north of perhaps Bologna. It is flat and squat highway driving, some of it through long tunnels. It may have been more palatable had we been able to stop in Modena (our original plan — we’d have loved to visit the Ferrari museum and one of the famous acetaias in town), but flooding deterred us and we drove straight. Still, there was something ease-filled about being able to leave when we wanted, not having to herd our luggage from taxi to plane/train, not contending with car rental return. We just got up and drove, and our travel agent Allison had arranged to have our car picked up from our hotel the following morning. Big, huge warning though: driving along Lake Como is harrowing. The roads are ultra-narrow, sometimes with less than a few inches clearance on either side, and they bend almost like switchbacks. We narrowly steered our boat of an SUV through the Passalacqua gates. But then —

There was Passalacqua.

Reader, words cannot adequately communicate the opulence and over-the-top-ness of this diadem of a luxury hotel perched on the west bank of Lake Como in Moltrasio. As a writer, my job is to bridge the lived physical with the abstract, and in this case, my casting in language will fall laughably short of true experience. Every detail of every inch of this immaculately groomed and designed hotel astounded me. We pulled up to the spectacular awninged main building and a woman wearing a long black robe (we meant to ask about this uniform — it read as “monk-like” and must have some sort of grounding in Como history) escorted us immediately into the reception area while our bags were taken discretely to our room and our car was wordlessly parked for us. The receptionist then guided as across the magnificent property of terraced gardens, pools, tennis and bocce courts, and other miscellaneous manicured lawns that lead down to the hotel’s private dock on Lake Como, at which a fleet of elegant wood-paneled boats wait.

The view from the front doors of the Passalacqua hotel.

Looking back towards the hotel from one of the terraced gardens at Passalacqua.

We wandered through the exquisite dining rooms, libraries, and hotel bar — all elegantly and traditionally appointed — and through the cave-like sauna, pool, and spa before arriving at our corner suite, which overlooked a greensward onto the Lake itself. I hope you will not consider me inane, but when the door closed behind us, I actually welled up with tears. Mr. Magpie and I have never stayed in anything approximating the luxury of this hotel. I had a fleeting sense of impostership. This, for us?! Mr. Magpie poured us a glass of the sparkling wine they had waiting for us in the room, and those sensations gradually dissipated — ha.

Waiting for us in our suite — sparking wine, treats, and clementines. (The entire mini bar was complimentary and restocked daily). Upon arrival, the receptionist gave me a corsage!

Had to snap a photo of myself to make sure I was actually alive / real.

The view from our room. I couldn’t stop swooning.

As recently as five years ago, the property was privately owned; after its purchase, the mansion was re-outfitted, maintaining many of the original details and preserving the traditional spirit of the place (the original owner of the mansion was named Passalacqua, and his crest boasted a three fish pattern — an insignia that can still be found everywhere in the hotel), but incorporating modern amenities. Because of this, the hotel marries contemporary, new-world finishes with Como’s more iconic ornate feel. Think handsome brass light switches, bedside adapters, wired and hidden speakers in both bedroom and bathroom, heated towel racks and floors, a TV disguised as a mirror, all alongside velvet drapes, elaborate intaglio ceilings, and upholstered everything.

The service here is impeccable — discrete, friendly, highly trained in the art of hospitality. We joked that there was likely a staff-to-guest ratio of 3:1. They even have a full-time florist arranging flowers at the station seen below all day long. After we pinched ourselves at our good fortune and I lollygagged and swooned out the window for a good thirty minutes, we wandered down to the outdoor bar that overlooks the pool to enjoy a (35 euro…! be warned!) cocktail. But when I tell you this place is magic…! The romance of these opulent mansions against the drama of the lake and the sheer drop of mountains around it! All I can say is that I understand why Verdi and Puccini composed their operas here.

View from the Passalacqua outdoor bar.

The florist’s station at Passalacqua.

After our cocktail, we wandered through the tiered lawns again. The hotel was remarkably quiet during our entire stay — it often felt that we were one of only a few patrons — but we also wondered whether that wasn’t strategic on the hotel’s part in some way. They do a good job of spacing out guests in the dining room and only permit a few patrons in the sauna/spa/pool at a time. We availed ourselves of the sauna, steam room, and pool two days in a row, and had the entire place to ourselves both times. Wildly romantic and luxurious.

View from the top terraced garden of the hotel; you can dine here on pleasant nights.

The hotel’s clay tennis court.

After exploring the property on our own, we relaxed in our room, showered, and changed for dinner, which we had pre-booked at Passalacqua’s sister hotel, The Grand Hotel Tremezzo (GHT). Our agent had steered us to consider either GHT or Passalacqua for our stay in Como, and I spent some time deliberating between the two. There are many Reddit threads debating this exact topic if you’re interested. It seemed to me that most people were raving about Passalacqua and that while many well-traveled Redditors have strong connections to the more traditional and long-standing GHT, there were some rumblings in the margins that it has gone ever so slightly downhill in the past year or two. I can’t speak to that, but I can say that we have nothing negative to say about Passalacqua — only a rave, five star review. The other hotel I might consider if we go back is The Mandarin Oriental, across the Lake. Several Magpies raved about this hotel in the same breath as Passalacqua, and the captain of our boat (more on this below) specifically pointed it out as one of the most revered destinations in the area, alongside Passalacqua and GHT.

If I am honest, I regret that we had dinner at GHT’S La Terrazza Gualtiero Marchesi. It’s 30 minutes from Passalacqua, and we were tired. Mr. Magpie did not want to drive after seeing the types of roads that wrap the Lake, so we arranged through the concierge to have a private car take us, wait for us, and then drive us back, which was extremely pricey for a dining experience that was similar to what we could have had at Passalacqua (where we would end up eating two nights later, and I much preferred the latter). While underway, we saw a pedestrian struck by a car, which was terrifying, and also sort of what we’d been breathlessly expecting. I don’t understand how the cars fly around those roads like they do while pedestrians are pinning themselves against the walls of buildings to let them by. A dark point of the night — though it did seem the gentleman struck was OK.

It was interesting to see the sister property, which felt even more ornate and traditional than Passalacqua, with a resplendent foyer and set of ballrooms. I am aiming to be polite and recognize how special and opulent the dining experience was at GHT, but it was my least favorite meal of the trip. It is a deeply romantic venue — on a terrace that overlooks the moonlit Lake — but I felt pandered-to in a way that I didn’t like. There were multiple comments by different servers along the lines of “the woman gets what the woman wants,” “let me guess, the lady wants the lobster macaroni,” and wink-wink-nudge-nudges to Landon, and I was given a menu without prices while Mr. Magpie’s did have them. I can appreciate tradition, and the staff probably has a sophisticated lock on their usual customer profile, but the entire thing left me a tiny bit…hm. We had of course known this going into the dinner, but the prices were extreme. We still exchange sarcastic comments on the plate of steamed vegetables we ordered to the tune of 38 euro. This place is a destination, and a flex, and I get that, but still. On the flipside, the experience taught me something about Mr. Magpie and I: while we appreciate fine, traditional dining in small and special doses, I think that when traveling we tend to prefer the more authentic local cuisine in smaller trattorias and cafes as a way of learning and appreciating a food culture different from our own. Anyhow, bring out the world’s tiniest violin. It was all magic, it was all over-the-top, and I was pinching myself every single minute — but trying to keep it real in case you are following my notes for future trip-planning. I would probably skip GHT and if you are in search of a fine dining experience, go to Passalacqua! More on that below.

The next morning, we enjoyed one of the epic “complimentary” breakfasts in the hotel dining room. (Complimentary in quotations as you are paying a lot of money to stay at Passalacqua.) You can order anything you’d like a la carte, and then they have two rooms in the kitchen lined with an unimaginable assortment of cakes, pastries, jams, spreads, cured meats, tinned fishes, cheeses, butters, fruits, yogurts, eggs, breads. It was staggering and beautifully displayed. Neither of us are big breakfast eaters, which is a shame. I could barely finish a bowl of yogurt and a cappuccino, and they brought out a four foot tall server of different special bites and brioches and the like, and then seemed surprised when we declined to order anything off the menu!

The dining room at Passalacqua, ready for breakfast.

One of two rooms full of breakfast offerings.

Even my purse had a throne at Passalacqua.

After breakfast, we had chartered one of the hotel’s boats for a private tour of Lake Como. This was the high point of our trip to Como. It was so romantic and so beautiful, and I liked the privacy of it — just Landon and I canoodling in the back of the boat, our conversation just for us over the hum of the motor. The captain did idle at a few strategic parts of the Lake to indicate points of interest — Clooney’s house being one of them! — and offered to let us walk around Bellagio (one of the most popular towns on the Lake, with good shopping), but we decided we were happy to stay where we were and view from the boat. The boat itself (named “The Didi” and built by Lake Como’s legendary Cantiere Colombo shipbuilder) was one of those glorious retro lacquered-wood beauties, and came fully stocked with wine, beer, soft drinks, etc and a sun deck and swimming platform we could have enjoyed had it been warmer. We toasted ourselves with glasses of champagne while taking in the sights. It was something else — a major golden moment. If you are planning a honeymoon, and contemplating Como, just know that this is it. As romantic as it gets.

Mr. Magpie aboard the Didi on Lake Como.

Me on the most romantic place on earth with the LOML.

After the boat, we wandered into Moltrasio in the rain and stopped to eat at a restaurant Landon had flagged called Trattoria La Moltrasina, on Via Francesco Raschi. It was empty save for us, and we enjoyed delicious plates of pasta (Landon had lobster and I had a mustard green and orecchiette dish) in its warm, clean dining room, before navigating the stepped, terraced streets and plazas back to the hotel for an afternoon in the sauna/steam room/indoor pool.

Exploring Moltrasio in the rain.

The indoor pool was something out of a movie — you walk through dim caves (which I am sure date back centuries) that have been modernized with jewel-like light fixtures to arrive at a long, narrow rectangle of a heated pool boxed in by tall panes of glass that overlook one of the gardens. We were alone in the pool, and it was raining, and wow.

We cleaned up and enjoyed a cocktail at the plush indoor bar afterward, where we were thoroughly charmed by the waitstaff and the bartender, the latter of whom had designed many of the elaborate cocktails on the menu and was eager to explain their complexities.

The hotel bar at Passalacqua.

We had been toying with the idea of walking back into town for dinner, but it was dark and rainy, and we instead opted to put on a movie and order room service. This was the only time we ate pizza on the entire trip (!), and it was absolutely delicious! The Passalacqua kitchen was a serious business — that crust was incredible.

View from our room at dusk.

Room service night, complete with Passalacqua’s insignia-emblazoned slippers.

In the morning, we had a private car take us to old Como itself, where Allison had arranged a food tour of Como for us. The food part of the tour was underwhelming, but it was a fantastic way to learn about the city, the region, and its proud history by foot. Como is charming, and full of chic people, and our guide was delightfully eager to share her hometown with us. We had hoped we might try the region’s famous perch and risotto dish while on this tour, but this was not on offer — I do regret not trying it while in the region; you might make a note to order it when you first have a chance. The highlight of the food tour was the gelato from Gelataria Rossetti — the only time we had gelato in Italy and delicious. I had a concord grape flavor I still think about.

Exploring old Como by foot.

After the food tour, we went back to the sauna/steam room/pool for a second visit, and then read and relaxed for the rest of the afternoon. If we had a little more gas in the tank, I would have liked to visit one of the beautiful museums or public gardens we’d driven by in the boat, but we also had pretty rainy/drizzly weather while in the area, and were flagging a bit towards the end of our trip.

We decided instead at the last minute to splurge on our final night by dining at the Passalacqua hotel, and I’m so glad we did. It was the cherry on top of an other-worldly, sumptuous trip. We went in hungry (possibly the only time we’d felt hungry the entire eight days) owing to the meager offerings on our food tour, and I’m so glad we did. The food was incredible, and rich, and well-portioned. When we arrived, we were the only patrons in the dining room, and there was a pianist playing elegant jazz piano just for us. I mean, can you even?! We ordered a foie gras appetizer, white truffle pasta (how could we not?), and sole meuniere, which was filleted table-side. Every single course was exceptional, and the waitstaff deeply attentive, and I felt like a little princess in a soap bubble of a dream. I will never in all my years forget that night, the lavishness and glamour of it all.

Dinner at Passalacqua, with a pianist!

My handsome date.

A little private dining nook — every corner is just so romantic.

In the morning, we ate a quick final breakfast before heading to the Milan airport. If I could have had a few extra days, I would have loved to visit Milan — three nights felt perfect for Como and I don’t know that you need more? — but suddenly we were boarding our plane and bidding Italy arrivederci…!

As always, feel free to send any questions via the comments, and please share if there are things we missed!

P.S. Everything I wore on the trip to Italy here.

P.P.S. Magpie readers share their top tips for easier travel days. (Come share yours…!)

P.P.P.S. Travel gear and essentials.