Borromeo Islands, Lago Maggiore

 August 17, 2019

One of the highlights of my stay in Stresa was visiting the three Borromeo Islands that float in the middle of the immense Lago Maggiore.

Isola Bella

Early one morning, I took the first possible ferry to Isola Bella, an old fishing village transformed by the Borromeo family during the years 1632-1671. It was crafted into a lovely complex that consists of a baroque palazzo and a terraced Italian-style garden with rare plants.

To see the gardens, it’s necessary to visit the Palazzo first, and there were many tour groups to wade through in the meantime. Once I got past them, I walked quickly through the opulent villa, as I’d seen many similar ones before and was anxious to see the gardens. 

My favorite area of the Palazzo was the six underground grottoes, encrusted with stones and shell motifs in mosaic designs. It’s amazing how pristine they still look after so many years. I spent most of my time visiting the gardens on the island, where white peacocks roaming amidst the cultured gardens made it seem even more exotic.

I traveled by ferry again to the smallest island, Isola dei Pescatori, still reminiscent of the fishing village that its name denotes. It had many restaurants and vendor booths, but little else to see, and I made a quick walk around the perimeter of the island before heading on. (sorry, no photos)

Isola Madre, the largest and most magnificent of the Borromeo islands was the last visit of the day. 

This time, the gardens came before the villa, which was rundown and of less interest to me, though it has period furnishings and a collection of 18^th and 19^th century puppet theaters.

The gardens on Isola Madre were vast, and I wandered around for over an hour, finding many tranquil spaces with few people around. By the time I left Isola Madre, I was wiped out and happy to return to my hotel. 

That evening I enjoyed an Aperol Spritz while sitting at the hotel’s outdoor café, listening to a guitar duo playing classical and popular music in the piazza facing the hotel. I especially enjoyed their rendition of an all-time favorite ballad, “Everybody’s Talking,” by Fred Neil. Since it was never a mainstream hit, it was surprising to hear it played by young Italians. I made a point of telling them it had been a favorite of mine for decades, while adding some euros to their take for the night. All in all, it was a rich day of interesting sights and sounds.