august2014
24
FLYTO
milanlinate
and
milanmalpensa
threetimesdaily.
brusselsairlines.com
ILLUSTRATION: ALEXANDREVERHILLE/L’ATELIERCARTOGRAPHIK
It’s the first dayofmen’s fashionweekandaheatwavehashitMilan,
providingmewith theperfect excuse toescapenorth tocooler Lake
Como inabrandnewAlfaRomeoMiTo.TheAlfa isparked inPiazzaDiaz,
just behind theDuomo. Inabar opposite, tannedmen insunglasses
loosen their ties, sipespressoand tapcigaretteashonto the footpath.
A fashionPRscreamsasher highheelssink into themeltingpavement
andchildrengiggleat her, icecreamon their chins.
As I slide into theMiTo’s leather seats, everyone
turns tostare– first at thecar, thenatme.With the
classicAlfagrill and roundblinkingheadlights, the
MiTo–which roughly translatesas ‘legend’butwas
alsonamed forMilanandTorino,where itwas
designedandproduced– iscertainlyeye-catching.
Not that Iwant anyone’sattention right now:my
neck iscraningout of thewindowas I try topull out
into traffic, thekind Italiansseem tomove through
likemistwhile foreigners likemestaycoweringon thesideof the road. I
feel likea learner driver again,myhandsclammyon thesteeringwheel.
“Whatever youdo, don’t checkyour blindspot,”wasmycousin
Nikolas’sadvice thatmorning.“By the timeyou turnaround, three
carsandamotorbikewill beovertakingyouand if you’renot looking
at the road, you’ll hit them.”But once I get going, thecar is terrific,
thegearsswift and the turns tight–handyas I swingdownone-way
lanesandbumppastMilan’subiquitousorange trams.TheA8 leadsme
out of thecity, the roaddippingand rising through the townof Saronno.
The thickgreysmogofMilandissolves in thesunasmysporty little
hatchbackzipsmepast swampy rice fieldscut intoacarpet of emeralds,
olivesandburnt yellows.
I roll intoComo’scitycentre, its longstreetsdressedwithgardensand
bubbling fountains.Como’sagrandoldcity, thekindof placeyouget the
feelingwishes it couldstill onlyaccept aristocraticvisitors (andold-
school Hollywoodheart-throbs, likeacertainMr
Clooney).Not that I haveaproblembehind the
wheel of theMiTo– there’sageneral consensusof
respect for theAlfa in Italy: evenon theautostrada
carsslowdownand letmepass.
A long tunnel guidesmeout on to the lake:
aplacewherepine-coveredmountains reach
towardsastretchofwater, criss-crossedbywhite
foamy trails frompleasureyachtsandspeedboats.
The tiny roadhugs theshore,winding throughvillagessosmall
I holdmybreathandkeepahandon thehornevery time I turn
acorner.SowhenVilladel Balbianello–whereDaniel Craig’sJames
Bond recovers in
CasinoRoyale
–appearsover the lake townof
Lenno, I’mkeen tostretchmy legs.
Built on thesiteof aFranciscanmonastery in the 1700s, thevillahas
alwaysbeen inaristocratichands, passedbetweenwriters, lords, and
now the ItalianNational Trust. Iwander through the rooms, decoratedas
From theDuomo toComo
MaresaManara
embraces her Italian roots driving
a nippy Alfa Romeo fromMilan to one of the
country’s most beautiful lakes
“
There’srespect for
theAlfa in Italy: even
on theautostrada
carsslowdown
and letmepass
”
Catch the lake ferry
from theoldwalled
cityofMenaggio
