Lunch at the Splendido Hotel…
Portofino, the jewel in the crown of the Ligurian coast, a hamlet of terracotta buildings ensconced by an emerald sea.
Once upon a time, Portofino was your run of the mill sleepy fishing village, until the 1950’s when the dolce vita jet set transformed it into a glamorous and opulent destination. Today it sings an octave higher, you know when Putins’s couturier Loro Piana opens in town there is a different sort of clientele arriving. A tiny inlet, surrounded by charming colourful houses, Balenciaga jostles next to restaurants on the water's edge. Aperitivo hour is being seated next to a flotilla of fishing boats and super yachts, two worlds colliding. All to the sound of gentle water lapping and seagulls squawking. Taking in the crowd, a quick game of ‘daddy, daughter or wife’ is not out of place!
I am staying round the corner, at Hotel Argentina, on Paraggi beach, a ten minute walk to Portofino. The small sandy beach of Parragi is a jade green nook of calm, think early morning snorkelling and sun beds at lunch on the wooden promenades on either side. The images of your mind's eye come together and all the pictures you have seen of the region merge into the vision before you. On the short walk to the village, a villa that would not be amiss in a Valentino campaign appears from the first bend, like a moment out of Alice in Wonderland, taking steps through an ochre hued wall, Portofino emerges.
The grand dame presiding over the whole place is Hotel Splendido. The jewel in the crown of the Belmond empire, beside the Cipriani and the iconic train - Venice Simplon-Orient-Express. Reportedly, after a game of tennis at the hotel, owner of the LVMH group, Bernard Arnault, decided to buy the entire portfolio, the proximity to his boat in the port - no doubt helped make up his mind on the venture.
Draped in wisteria with bunches of pink flowers punctuating the exterior, soldier-like green shutters bring the whole façade together. This gleaming beacon sits on the hill overlooking the port of Portofino, a rather low key blue sign greets you, disarms you almost, before you make the steep ascent towards the hotel of mythical status. Scented gardens of roses, rosemary and oleander surround the path. As you arrive at the terrace, the sea gleams below, framed by luscious green arches, dotted with brass lights.
Lunch is on order and we are swept through to the terrace, sitting close to the edge, olive trees and hibiscus cling on. I feel this may be as close to heaven as one can get, not before a perfectly pink blushing Bellini is placed before me, made with freshly pulped flat white peaches, it sings on the palette, now I’m really in heaven. It’s one of those days that you know will probably be up there in the top 100. The yachts twinkle under the sun in the harbour below, spiky poplars add graphic flair to the view as I take my first sip.
Elizabeth Taylor and Dicky Burton were regulars here, he even popped the question here in one of the Juliet balcony suites. I ordered her favourite dish Pomodoro spaghetti, for my main, along with a Milanese schnitzel, Carpaccio with Truffle and a Caprese salad. I was tempted by the local pesto, but Elizabeth’s pasta won out. Seated on the terrace, the ice bucket is to my right and an expansive view unfolds before me, the pool is getting ample use and grammars' are getting their shot in, I think Richard Burton would be rolling in his grave over the spectacle. The white jacket waiters impart their classic relaxed Italian service, I may not be Elizabeth Taylor but I certainly feel like her today.
