I took a tin box out of Naples on a hot August morning. The local train was sweltering and packed with Neapolitan teenagers on their way to the sea. I’d been working in their crowded, sweaty city for nine heat-wave days and, like them, needed an escape. Unlike them, though, I knew how to comport myself with dignity on public transportation. Thankfully, they got off at the first beach town; I got off at the last, all the way around the bend of the Sorrentine Peninsula.
In colorful and coastal Sorrento, I wheeled my heavy suitcase from the train station to a taxi stand where a driver rejected my advance, insisting the hotel was only a short walk away. He was wrong. Another layer of sweat was added to my clothes as I navigated the charming city and its narrow streets, not quite yet crowded in mid-morning, among the soothing pastel colors, local shops with a hint of a headwind in my face. I turned a corner and came upon an open expanse from where the breeze emanated.
Imagine the view from the cliffs, across the Bay of Naples, its namesake city and famous volcano visible as the marine layer lifts across the dark blue waters strewn with motorboats and passenger ferries. Seabirds circle above the cliff’s edge lined with luxury hotels. And the most luxurious of them all, an alabaster palace, awaits under the gated entrance identified as the Hotel Bellevue Syrene.
I’m greeted by a dapper man who knows my name and takes my suitcase. Those nine days in Naples disappear below my feet as I walk a breezy, outdoor corridor of blue stone under a pergola of threaded wisteria. The bay is beyond the tables of an alfresco eatery; below the tables is a terrace outfitted with marble busts along the railing that contains a bar and a swimming pool surrounded by chaise lounges under umbrellas with views out to sea and of the dramatic coastline in both directions.
The entry corridor under the pergola opens into a checkered-marble floor, flower-scented courtyard adorned with fountains and Roman columns, potted plants under a canopy of tropical trees, couches and coffee tables among an art collection both modern and antique. The courtyard borders on two sides the wedding-cake white main buildings of the hotel, where the art extends into the atrium-like administrative area and salon as the eclectic museum motif goes into full effect with plastic sculptures next to works from ancient Rome (with representation of many eras in between). There are board games and mirrors galore, framed classic photos and original works of art. Dramatic light fixtures hang overhead in myriad forms. Flowers and plants are everywhere; a jazzy soundtrack of pop cover songs whispers through the rooms.
While waiting for my room, I sipped Franciacorta and read about the hotel’s origins dating back to the 2nd century BC as a villa owned by Roman emperors with many famous visitors and inhibitors since, including nobility, politicians, writers, poets, and musicians finding inspiration and refuge among the idyllic surroundings. The villa was turned into a hotel in 1820 with 32 spacious rooms. Today, there are 50 rooms total, including seven junior suites and 12 suites.
Still waiting for my room (I had arrived quite early in my eagerness to get out of Naples), I wandered the long hallways and explored the interior with its formal restaurant on the top floor offering stunning views in three directions. Adjacent to the restaurant is a spacious outdoor area for events that is so elegant it made me want to get married again just to host a reception there.
Spiraling staircases lead me down to the bottom floor of the hotel where an arched corridor of stone (complete with original frescos on the walls) wends its way down and eventually outside to the private beach club with lounge chairs, umbrellas and a full bar menu. I knew where I’d be coming as soon as I could access my room and change into my swimwear.
I took an early lunch at the outdoor eatery, aptly named La Pergola, with its casual daytime menu (even Club Sandwiches are better in Italy) that transitions into more sophisticated offerings for dinner service (where I would dine during my stay on local specialties perfectly prepared). They found me after lunch lounging by the pool to let me know my room was ready.
A well-mannered and nattily clad agent from the front desk accompanied me to my room at the end of a long hallway. I was still thoroughly mesmerized by the property and not really thinking about the room…until the door opened to the type of splendor that never fails to fill me with awe. The large main room bursting with light streaming in from terrace doors, offering a view of Vesuvius across the Bay of Naples. A canopied bed was centered with a table and chairs at its foot; on the table were mini pastries under glass, a fruit basket and a bottle of sparkling wine in a bucket of ice. The second room featured a walk-in closet and a gurgling hot tub with an arched window framing the volcano. The shiny bathroom was larger than my entire room in Naples.
I pretended to pay attention to the attendant as he informed me about controlling the room temperature, how to reach the front desk, when and where breakfast was served, etc., but what I was really thinking about was the dance I’d be doing as soon as the door closed behind him.
The magic of travel for me is when I find myself in a place that exceeds the bounds of my imagination. Places where location, property, hospitality and accommodations combine in the alchemy of luxury. These are the occasions when I am connected to my inner child and reminded about the good fortune that I enjoy being able to have such experiences and share the story of truly magnificent places such as the Hotel Bellevue Syrene.
