My Way Italy Day 3-4: Exploring the Opulence of Lake Como

After a five-hour ride through rolling Italian countryside, we arrived in Como, a town as picturesque as a postcard. Nestled at the southern tip of Lake Como and framed by the foothills of the Alps, it felt like stepping into another world entirely. The glacier-fed lake shimmered in shades of silver and slate, mirroring the low-hanging clouds that hugged the mountains. The quiet streets of Como made it feel like time had slowed down. This town has been drawing people in for centuries. During the Roman Empire, it was a crucial trade and military hub, a vital gateway to the Alpine crossings. Today, it draws a different crowd — travelers seeking calm, beauty, and a taste of Italy’s slower side. Even on a cold, drizzly day in October, it was clear why people come here.

We rolled into Como late in the afternoon, about two hours before sunset. After dropping our bags at the hotel, our guide, Cary, gave us the lowdown on the next day’s adventure — a trip to Bellagio and Varenna. She led us to the dock where we could buy boat tickets, and that’s when it hit me: Lake Como is massive. This isn’t some quaint little pond — it’s a winding, glacier-fed giant. Depending on your mode of transport, it takes either 45 minutes on a fast boat or nearly two hours on the slow boat to reach the lake’s northern jewels. With limited time, we chose speed. The fast boat would give us more time to roam the cobblestone streets of Bellagio and Varenna without staring at waves for hours.

That evening, we traded lake views for wine glasses at a local winery. This wasn’t the kind of slick, modern wine bar you’d find in the city. It felt cozy, rustic, and distinctly Italian — the kind of place where wine tastes better because it’s poured by people who love it. Surrounded by the hum of conversation and the clink of glasses, we got to know our tour group. That’s where I met Mark, a retired photojournalist-turned-commercial photographer from the Washington-Baltimore area. Over a few pours of red, we swapped stories about photography — the thrill of capturing the right moment, the obsession with gear, and how every good shot is part luck, part patience. Conversations like these are why I love traveling. You come for the views, but it’s the unexpected connections that stay with you. Wine helps, too.

After wandering through the serene gardens of Villa Melzi, we made our way back to the ferry terminal in Bellagio. But the town we’d left that morning — quiet, calm, and postcard-perfect — had transformed. Tourists poured in with every ferry, crowding the narrow alleyways and filling every cafe chair in sight. It felt like we had accidentally left the “golden hour” of travel and stumbled into peak season. I was suddenly grateful we’d come in October because if this was the off-season, I can’t imagine what July looks like.

The ferry to Varenna arrived after a short wait. It wasn’t like the fast boat we’d taken that morning, where movement was limited and views came through narrow windows. The ferry was different — more space to move, more time to breathe. The ride took a little over 30 minutes, but it felt longer in the best possible way. It was a chance to slow down and actually see Lake Como from the water. As the crisp October air rushed past, I thought of Ferris Bueller’s famous line, "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it." The ferry ride was exactly that — a pause, a chance to look around. The mountains rolled by like slow-moving waves. It was a kind of magic you only notice when you’re forced to slow down.

By the time we arrived in Varenna, I realized Bellagio might be the “Pearl of Lake Como,” but Varenna? Varenna is the "Hidden Jewel in the Rocks." It didn’t announce itself with fanfare. It just existed in quiet, effortless beauty. From the moment we stepped off the ferry, I felt like I’d walked straight into the pages of a romance novel — ivy-draped villas with balconies hanging over the water, narrow walkways leading to hidden courtyards, and colors so rich they practically hummed. Terracotta reds, sun-bleached yellows, and bold Mediterranean blues splashed across the facades like an artist had gone a little wild with the palette. For a photographer, it was a feast of textures and color — every street, every alley, every unexpected turn offering another shot I didn’t want to miss.

After a while, we found a quiet spot to sit by the lake — a small, no-frills restaurant with a front-row view of the water. I wasn’t expecting much, but then I ordered the carbonara. And I’m not exaggerating when I say it was one of the most memorable meals of my life. Creamy, perfectly coated noodles with just the right amount of crispy bacon and cracked black pepper — it was a masterclass in simplicity done right. It wasn’t just food — it was the feeling of being in a place that understands how to make simple things unforgettable. And that’s Varenna in a nutshell.

After making our way back to Varenna, something magical happened — the clouds broke and the sun poured through, revealing Lake Como in full technicolor. Earlier in the day, it had been beautiful in that quiet, brooding way, like a black-and-white film with perfect contrast. But now? Now it was like someone cranked up the saturation. The water turned a shade of blue so vivid it felt surreal. The distant mountains, once hazy silhouettes, sharpened into crisp ridgelines. Everything felt alive. The air warmed, faces lit up, and the collective mood of the town shifted from contentment to pure, unfiltered joy. People sat along the promenade, faces tilted to the sun like sunflowers, while the steady rhythmic lapping of waves against the seawall played like nature’s white noise machine. This wasn’t just a view — it was a feeling. The kind that settles into you, soft and slow, like you’ve been holding your breath all day without realizing it.

I get it now. I get why this place has been a retreat for Milan’s rich and powerful for centuries. It’s not just the beauty — it’s the space. Space to pause. Space to breathe. Space to think about something other than the next meeting, the next email, or the next obligation on a never-ending list. You can’t help but reflect here. And while I’m no Milanese merchant or Renaissance lord, I felt it too. I’m just a working video editor with a busy calendar, but on that lakeshore, I had space to think about what I want next. Not just in travel, but in life. It’s wild how a view can do that. But Lake Como is sneaky like that. It doesn’t shout, it whispers. And if you’re quiet long enough, you hear it.

On the fast boat back to Como, I watched the shoreline drift away and felt a wave of gratitude hit me harder than the lake breeze. This place has a way of getting under your skin. It’s not just the views (though they don’t hurt) — it’s how it makes you feel. There’s something inherently romantic about Lake Como, and I don’t mean in the “candlelit dinner for two” sense. It’s romantic in the “big, sweeping, cinematic, life feels bigger than it is” kind of way. Every turn of the head reveals another perfect shot — villas framed by cypress trees, pastel houses clinging to cliffs, and water so still it could be a mirror. For a photographer, it’s a place that leaves you chasing the next shot long after you’ve told yourself “just one more.” One and a half days wasn’t enough — but it was better than nothing. Some places stay with you. Lake Como isn’t just a place you visit — it’s a place that visits you back.