Have a holiday next to George Clooney

Unless you are an opera buff and dwell on the magic of La Scala, a Formula One fan, or you follow football and the exploits of Inter and AC against your own team would excite you, there are not too many pleasures around graffiti-daubed Milan.

But there is one grand benefit in using Northern Italy’s old industrial centre as a stepping stone to a vividly alternative and nearby attraction: Lake Como, Bellagio and, more especially, the Grand Hotel Villa Serbelloni.

When a bygone era merges with modern demands, the outcome is all too often a sad disappointment, clumsily conjoined in a mixture of unbalanced sympathies to either period.

Not so the Serbelloni, as stately a presence on the deep and dark lake’s shoreline as you would hope for as an escape to style far beyond the reaches of stuffiness.

I have been visiting there for 20 years, my stopover while I fill in time at the Italian Grand Prix at Monza, 45 minutes drive away, in my capacity as a Formula One correspondent. And I got married there. Such was my affection for the setting and the certainty the hotel would do a great job on the nuptials and the celebratory aftermath.

The hotel’s front terrace with its memorable backdrop of dark mountains across the lake with its families of serene swans was the scene, too, of my proposal to my wife on her birthday with a Tiffany bracelet inscribed on a heart “Marry Me”.

Right on cue a violinist — alerted by the then hotel manager, Giuseppe Spinelli, ex of the Savoy, London — played “Happy Birthday” at our table and whispered “Don’t be shy”, as my wife Delia blushed at the attention and the politely gentle applause rippling from our fellow diners.

It was only when she put on her glasses to examine the bracelet that she noticed my proposal — and two perfectly timed flutes of bubbly arrived with Mr Spinelli toasting us unobtrusively from the farthest reaches of the dining room.

Now, I would hate to come across as yukkily sentimental; I just wanted to demonstrate how thoughtful and only too happy and eager the likes of Mr Spinelli, and now his successor, Antonio Calzolaro, are to be part of a special and inescapably romantic occasion.

Hollywood movie superstar Robert de Niro always drops in, a compulsory call, when he’s in the area — and he always has the same table and the same meal with a special telephone line organised by the manager and left open for him.

There will more than likely be an overspill of guests from this month’s wedding of the world’s foremost bachelor, George Clooney, to London-based barrister Amal Alamudden, if it takes place in his fabulous home, the Villa Oleandra, in Laglio, just across the lake.

A ferry is the ideal way to arrive in Bellagio, with a ten-minute crossing giving you time to watch the gloriously terraced town, all red and cream, with its nooks and crannies, loom into sight.

Inside two minutes you could be sipping your first grappa and black espresso or enjoying a chilled prosecco at one of the pier-side bars, preferably one opposite the ferry ticket office if people-watching is your preference. All of this after your flight plus a car journey of maybe an hour from either of Milan’s two international airports Linate or Malpensa.

What happens after that at the Swiss Bucher family-owned Serbelloni — 98 rooms and four suites, including a breathtaking Royal — is a timeless level of style that has never faded and has attracted the illustrious likes of European royalty and, more recently, movie stars Clooney and his pal Brad Pitt, Uma Thurman and Vanessa Redgrave, with Mary Pickford, Douglas Fairbanks Sr, Robert Mitchum, Clark Gable and Al Pacino among a cast list that also included Winston Churchill and former American presidents Franklin D. Roosevelt and John F. Kennedy.

There’s a swimming pool on the water’s edge, a gritty, gravelly sunbathing area next to it, and a poolside restaurant, in addition to the terrace diner, overlooking the lake and the hustle and bustle of the crisscross ferries.

After dinner — jackets, please — a trio, led by the violinist and, yes, it’s a bit waltzy, plays in the lounge for either your dancing or listening preference.

If all this sounds like a freebie-induced PR plug, forget it. I always pay the asking rate. And I return every September for the Italian Grand Prix, this time staged on September 7.

You would be hard pressed to imagine you would want to leave the set-up with its discreet but speedy service, even to take an easy two-hour drive to have a look at St Moritz across the border in Switzerland or go searching for locally-made and bargain-priced silks — but there is one more smile-stirring surprise awaiting a short motorboat ride away.

I won’t spoil it for you suffice to say it revolves around the only island — Isola Comacina — on the lake, with an unforgettable and panoramic view south towards Como town, and on it is a unique restaurant whose menu, bizarrely, has not changed since 1947.

The geekily colourful owner, Bienvenuto, who used to chef at the Playboy Club in London, is an odd-ball one-off who... Well, let’s leave it there, shall we, and not ruin the fun just in case you cannot resist the temptation to follow the likes of movie legend Sophia Loren, whose autographed picture adorns the celebrity-packed photo gallery and endorses my opinion.

I’d bet she, too, enjoyed the surprise of Bienvenuto’s colourfully ceremonial and offbeat welcome.