Bellagio, bordering Lake Como, must be one of the most beautiful places in the world. We’ve been there several times and absolutely love it. There are the tree-lined streets, gardens and sculptures, shops full of Como silks, hand-carved artefacts and delicious food and drink. Gelati is the best – panocotta and violetta among my favourites. There’s the Hotel Florence, introduced to us by Gordon and Jacqueline. We always start there when we get off the boat. They serve huge fresh salads and you can sit by the lake and watch the world go by, sipping a bellini made of fresh peach juice and prosecco. Could life get any better?
Yes – if we spotted George Clooney. He has a villa in the area and his photo is displayed in local restaurants. Ann and I kept our eyes peeled but didn’t actually see him. (August would not be an ideal month to be incognito, I suppose.) We live in hope. In the meantime Bellagio is full of men aspiring to be George Clooney. All ages, always slim, even all year round tans. Well-pressed trousers, colourful open-necked cotton shirts, polished shoes and classy jewellery. They walk upright and elegantly, accompanied by similarly stylish women and sometimes a little dog. They are always Italian. British men don’t come up to scratch. They wear white socks with sandals, stoop with a paunch and eat ice cream messily, letting it dribble down their shirts. (Yes I sense some of your comments about me and my friend but this is about men!)
Here’s what we have whilst we wait for George Clooney.
Stewart aged 61 (but only for a day). He’s the one on the right.