Dispatch from Italy

La Grande Bellezza Grand Tour: Il Pellicano’s 60th, The Splendido’s epic reno, the Italian Riviera party uniform, an elevated caprese, the joy of slow travel, and some Anna Wintour PTSD

Hotel Il Pellicano

This week we’re tutto Italia! As much as I recommend traveling any other time of year to this beautiful country, the reality is that summer is when many of us have time off, have invitations to weddings/birthdays, or just like being here in high season. I get it! I’m married to a half-Italian who would rather be here more than anywhere else, and for his July birthday, we’re heading to Puglia, which we haven’t been to in… well, about 8 years, when I was working at Condé Nast Traveler and Brides. (This was the period when they started giving everyone two jobs, and in addition to being creative director at CNT, I was tasked with completely reimagining Brides,) Anna Wintour was texting me every 5 minutes with some brisk (to put it mildly) comments, and my back went out from all the anxiety. I have to say, the massage therapist I had at the Borgo Egnazia was an amazing healer!) But I digress…. We’ll be back there for a long weekend in late July, with no bossy texts, and I’m so looking forward to it, even if I know I’ll probably melt.

For most of June, Matt and I (plus a number of our contributor friends) zig-zagged around Italy, trying to fit in as much research/fun as we could before it became impossible to find a room. We started off in Portofino. It was such a treat to be invited by the Belmond Splendido folks—they were celebrating the reopening and completion of a 5-year rolling renovation by Martin Brudnizki, who did a brilliant job. We went a day early so we could check out their sister property on the harbor, Splendido Mare, which I’d never been to and was completely charmed by (I wrote a guest book about it here). We had a great lunch at Langosteria in Paraggi, but sadly no beach time, as it was grey and windy. Next time! The following day we checked into the Hotel Splendido, which was putting on its finishing touches. We were the very first guests in the Dior spa—I had a great massage, and they let me keep Prune with me because our room wasn’t ready yet). Then we headed to Villa Beatrice for a tour with Martin Brudnizki, who also did this project, of this epic private villa that’s newly a part of the Splendido and just down the road from the hotel (It just officially opened June 29). Dinner at DaV Mare was so great—it’s an outpost of da Vittorio, a Bergamo-based, Michelin-awarded resto that’s now in several locations around the world; it’s best known for its paccheri da Vittorio, a tomato-butter sauce that’s made from several varieties of tomatoes and has the consistency (and tbh, a bit of the taste) of Campbell's tomato soup. In a good way! The bar program is also very strong, with a concept that we thought was so fresh: the bartender does a flight of drinks depending on your taste, and then pairs food to it. It’s great for the solo traveler, but also for someone who really loves a clever mixologist and doesn’t want to move to the dinner table just to start eating before falling off their bar stool.

Hotel Splendido; Prune at Hotel Il Pellicano

From there, we raced down to the 60th anniversary of the Hotel Il Pellicano, which was so incredibly elegant and filled with the nicest and most glamorous people. It was also my 10-year friendship anniversary with Marie-Louise Sciò, who I met just days after the hotel’s 50th anniversary, when I first went there for Traveler. Little-known fact: she is the one who pushed me to start Yolo, and named it. Forever grateful to her!

We drove back to Rome with our friend Emily FitzRoy of Bellini Travel, who got us tickets to the Caravaggio show at the Palazzo Barberini—equal parts amazing/crowded/sweaty—and who overnighted at the newly opened Orient Express La Minerva (she wrote a Guest Book on it here). We went to Gigi, their rooftop restaurant, the next night, and I have to say it is one of the prettiest views you can have in the city. (I wrote about it in my Rome Black Book in the section called, “Safe Haven Spots Near Touristy Locations You’ll Likely Find Yourself In”). It was a blazing-hot week, so we went to check out the Rome Cavalieri (for the Black Book, as well as for the book on Rome I’m working on (!)), and immediately texted my friends coming to Rome this summer with their kids to switch their hotel—your little ones will forever be grateful if you let them come back to this multi-pool oasis and its kids’ club after a day of being hauled around the city. (And it’s only a 10-minute drive to the Piazza del Popolo.)

Rome Cavalieri; Gigi at La Minerva Rome

Matt is working on his second edition of A Man and His Watch and we needed to photograph someone in Lucca, so I thought we should combine that with a visit to Forte dei Marmi, which I’d only ever driven through. It’s a place that people love or hate—and given that I have friends on both sides, I was very curious to spend a night there. I’d always wanted to check out the old-school Augustus Resort, and was curious about the just-opened Pensione America. Since we were traveling with our friend and photographer Stephen Lewis, we were able to double up on our Guest Books—we stayed at Augustus (they accept dogs), and Stephen stayed at the Pensione America (who don’t). I have to say, I really enjoyed our 24 hours in Forte—I loved both of the hotels’ beach clubs, as well as the biking culture. Nothing makes me happier than seeing families and friends riding their bikes everywhere, often with a little dog in the front basket. The next morning we headed to Lucca, stopping in beautiful Pietrasanta to see the marble church/square, and then after our shoot at the beautiful jewelry store Carli, had a great lunch at Gino Frutta, a grocery store/wine shop with a restaurant. Everything was simple and delicious, but I especially loved their tomato carpaccio (recipe/instructions below).

Pensione America; Augustus Resort

Florence was next on the itinerary, as it was Pitti Uomo week. We arrived just in time to check out the newest addition to the Lungarno Collection, Palazzo Ottaviani—nine luxury apartments that are so tastefully appointed and, for what they are, shockingly well priced (a 1-BR apartment in mid-July is 600/night, a 2-BR 1000/night). If there’s a miniature train lover in your group, do not miss the train museum connected to the palazzo—it’s 280 square meters and took 40 years to construct.

Unfortunately we had to leave a day early, because of the sciopero (an unfortunate word you should know if you’re traveling in Italy—it means “strike”), but that meant we got to try the Six Senses Kyoto pop up at Notos, the rooftop restaurant at the Six Senses Rome. Sometimes you do need a break from Italian food, and this was so excellent!

But enough about hotels! Here are some ideas inspired by these locations that can be duplicated at home.

ICYMI - Dressy Caftans

Whether you’re sitting in your backyard having gin and tonics, or heading to Sardinia with visions of Marisa Berenson from the ‘60s in your head, everything is chicer (and more comfortable) in a caftan. We did a deep-dive on my favorites in last weekend’s Yolo Intel, but I know not all of you follow along there, so I’m reposting our link here. I was heavily inspired at the Pellicano anniversary weekend, surrounded by so many women in the most beautiful caftans, perhaps the queen of them being Camille Miceli, the artistic director of Pucci—who is so head-to-toe Pucci’d out, she makes you want to do the same.

Copy That: An Elevated Caprese

Not really a recipe—more of a technique! We had this tomato carpaccio at Gino Frutta in Lucca and loved it. They sliced the tomatoes so thinly and layered buffalo mozzarella over them, along with a few oil-marinated anchovies. When Matt reproduced it this week, we did a version without the anchovies for his mom, and one with for us.

Armchair Traveler (or Summer Host Gift)

Ever since Elizabeth Minchilli gave me a copy of her daughter’s book, The Sweetness of Doing Nothing: Living Life the Italian Way with Dolce Far Niente, it sat in my “I need to get to that” pile. I finally spent some time with it these last couple of weeks and I have to say, not only is it a great read with thoughtful and easily digestible insight from Sophie, who grew up in Italy, about the uniquely Italian approach to living in the here and now, it has great reminders on how to elevate your every day, as well as some nice and easy recipes. Nominating this as the most perfect summer host gift! Buy a pile of them—they are small and easy to bring, even if you’re flying.

First Person: The Joy of Slow Travel

On our last morning at the Pellicano, I sat for coffee with my friend Ashley Baker, deputy editor at AirMail, who told me about her plane-train-bus-and automobile adventure arriving at the hotel. I loved this story so much, I asked her to please write it down, which she did before she even got to the airport for her flight home!

By Ashley Baker

When a hotel room costs $2,500 a night, it’s safe to assume that its guests don't arrive by public transportation.

In early June, I traveled from my home, in London, to Porto Ercole to celebrate the 60th anniversary of my friend Marie-Louise Sciò's hotel, Il Pellicano. And because I’m concerned about my carbon footprint, averse to Avis, and unwilling to spend $600 on a two-hour transfer, I did things a little differently.

From the airport at Fiumicino, I boarded the Leonardo Express train—35 easy minutes—to Roma Termini. I gnawed on a fast-food panini while I hurried around the station, my Rimowa trailing behind me, searching for a platform that apparently didn’t exist.

I missed my train to Orbetello, but there’d be another in an hour. I sat on a bench in the sun, and a nice English-speaking grandmother from Grosseto struck up a conversation. She reminisced about the lesser-known corners of the Tuscan coast until, finally, it was time to go. Peering out the window, the city fell away, and then the countryside, until there was nothing to my left but the sea, grand and shimmering.

Two hours later, I arrived in dusty Orbetello. From there, I hoped to take a taxi, but the station was crickets. Fortuitously, a 16-seat city bus lumbered up to the curb. The driver—a doppelgänger for the man who shuttled me to elementary school in the ‘80s—opened the door.

“Porto Ercole?”

The Orbetello regional bus was locals-only except for a young mother, father, and their young daughter in a diaper and t-shirt. The parents, who seemed to be from Scandinavia, were gorgeously tanned, hauling heavy, battered backpacks and fumbling with a paper map. (Some bus routes aren’t known to Google.) They asked to be dropped by the side of the highway and set off down a dirt road, the little girl trailing happily.

I followed the bus’s movements along Google Maps until I sensed we were close. “Hotel Il Pellicano?” I worked up the courage to ask. The driver laughed—I wonder why?—and instructed me to get off at Porto Ercole. I was tempted to finish on foot, but it was boiling, so I called the hotel and was collected by a Mercedes-Benz.

I’ve never been happier to arrive somewhere, but it wasn’t due to the suffering. It was thanks to the adventure. More and more these days, I’ve found myself saying, “I’m too old for that.” Cocaine. TikTok. G-strings. Anything uncomfortable or risky, really.

And it bothers me, this tendency away from friction. Especially in travel, which I initially loved not for its glamour, but its messiness. I embarked on my first big trip twenty years ago, backpacking around Guatemala with nothing but my best friend, a Lonely Planet guide, a few hundred dollars, and an EastPak full of vintage. We took chicken buses to market towns and subsisted on street food, and we’re different people because of it.

Now, when I’m on assignment writing a travel story, I’m as cosseted as the sovereign of a small nation. A driver from the Hotel du Cap once met me at the plane’s door. My pillowcases are often monogrammed and, more than once, my face has been printed onto a sugar cookie. I'm extremely fortunate—and also, spoiled—and yet I do miss that scrappier, slower brand of adventure. Travel may come with fewer bumps these days, but it only occasionally changes my life.

It was an unforgettable weekend at the Pellicano, a crucible of Italian style where everything is just plain extra. (Or “issimo,” as Marie-Louise would say.) The lineup of warm cakes at breakfast, the satisfying clink of a late-night Negroni, the first shocking plunge into the choppy ocean—I hope they stay with me forever.

But thanks to my small adventure, my memories are even richer, more layered. The generous grandmother. The mysterious young family. The first glimpse of the Tyrrhenian Sea on the other side of the plate glass. I’m not quite prepared to return to hostels—technically, I really am too old for that—but you know what? From now on, I think I’ll take the train.

Watch List: La Grande Bellezza

By Paolo Sorrentino. A must!!!