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Lake Como in Spring: When the Gardens Wake and the Tourists Sleep

  • Immagine del redattore: Roberto Cattaneo
    Roberto Cattaneo
  • 4 giorni fa
  • Tempo di lettura: 4 min

The camellias open first, before anything else on the lake has decided it is spring.

They appear along the western shore in the gardens of the old villas — Carlotta, Melzi, Monastero — in shades of pink and white and a deep, almost impossible red that looks as though someone has been painting in the rain. The gardens are empty. The gates are open. The only sound is water, and birds, and your own footsteps on gravel that has not been disturbed since last October.

This is Lake Como in March and early April. The season that the travel industry has not yet discovered, or has discovered and chosen to ignore, because it does not fit the template of what a Lake Como holiday is supposed to look like. There are no aperitivo boats. The lakefront restaurants in Bellagio are still shuttered. The water is cold. And the light — the light is extraordinary: low, golden, arriving at an angle that makes every stone facade, every mountain ridge, every ripple on the surface of the lake look as though it has been lit by a cinematographer who understands that beauty is not about brightness but about direction.

Brunate in the first warmth

At 700 metres above the lake, Brunate receives spring before Como does. The air is thinner, clearer, and the sun, when it clears the eastern ridge in late morning, has a warmth that the shore towns will not feel for another three weeks. The chestnut trees along the path to the Faro Voltiano lighthouse are showing their first pale green — tentative, almost translucent leaves that filter the light into a shifting mosaic on the forest floor.

Hotel Paradiso Como, perched at the top of the funicular with its terrace facing south-west across the entire basin, is already open. It has been open all winter — this is a family-run hotel, thirteen rooms, three generations of the Cattaneo family since 1969, and closing for winter has never been part of the vocabulary. But spring is when the terrace comes alive. The heated infinity pool, held at 34 degrees year-round, is still steaming in the cool morning air, but by midday, guests are sitting beside it in shirtsleeves, faces tilted toward a sun that feels like a gift after the grey months.

The panorama from the pool terrace in March is the widest and clearest of the year. Winter has scrubbed the air. The snow on the Bernina range to the north is still deep and bright. The lake below is a mirror — undisturbed by boat traffic, unruffled by the summer winds, reflecting the mountains with a precision that makes the water look solid, as though you could walk across it to Bellagio.

The first bread of spring

At MamaGina Bistrot & Restaurant — the hotel's kitchen, named for the Cattaneo matriarch who first cooked for guests in 1969 — spring arrives on the plate before it arrives in the landscape. The bread, baked every morning in the hotel's own kitchen as it has been for fifty-seven years, takes on a lighter character: the crust is thinner, the crumb more open, as though the dough itself has responded to the lengthening days. All the bread is homemade. All the pasta — tagliatelle, pappardelle, ravioli — is rolled by hand every afternoon. All the cakes are baked fresh, warm, imperfect in the way that only handmade things can be.

In March, the kitchen at MamaGina begins to shift. The heavy winter ragouts give way to lighter preparations — a risotto with the first wild asparagus from the hillsides, a lake fish grilled simply with lemon and the garden's early herbs, a pasta dressed with nothing more than butter, sage, and the particular sweetness of spring onions that have been growing slowly through the cold months. The cakes are brighter too: lemon, almond, a torta with ricotta and candied citrus that tastes like sunlight converted to sugar.

What to do when there is nothing to do

Spring on Lake Como, seen from Brunate, is not a season of activities. It is a season of encounters — with light, with silence, with the slow revelation of a landscape waking up. You take the funicular from Como, seven minutes of ascent through the mountainside, and when you step out at the top, the lake is below you and the Alps are in front of you and the air tastes of altitude and possibility.

You walk the path to the lighthouse. Twenty minutes through the forest, the ground soft with last autumn's leaves, the new growth bright overhead. You reach the Faro Voltiano and the view extends in every direction — south to the Pianura Padana, north to Switzerland, east and west along the arms of the lake that stretch toward Lecco and toward Menaggio like two open arms.

You return to the pool. You swim in warm water under a sky that is not yet summer-white but spring-blue, deeper and more saturated than any other month. You eat lunch at MamaGina — something simple, something seasonal, something that tastes of the hillside it came from. You sit on the terrace as the afternoon light moves across the lake and watch the ferries, tiny from this height, tracing their patterns on the water.

Spring on Lake Como is not a lesser season. It is the season when the lake shows you what it looks like before it becomes a destination — when it is still, simply, a place. And Hotel Paradiso Como, at 700 metres, surrounded by the first blooms and the last snow, is the place from which to see it.

Spring Awakening: 2 nights at Hotel Paradiso Como with breakfast at MamaGina, heated pool access, and a guided spring walk to the Faro Voltiano. Book direct on hotelparadisocomo.com.

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