The land of fine watches, punctual trains, ski resorts and overly discreet bankers. A place Theresa May goes on holiday. An agreeable destination, but maybe just a tiny bit dull unless you get turned on by high-end chocolate. Now, thanks to a viral video revealing the wild riverine beauties of the Lavertezzo valley, the world is starting to cotton on to an unexpected fact: there is a corner of the country that is as ravishing in its beauty as it is alluring in its glamour, a place that is hedonistic, sensuous, even naughty and also a little less pricey, now the Swiss franc has softened.
I find myself looking at the goldstone clock tower on a hilltop village, surrounded by rustling vines and olive groves, smiling contentedly in the sun as I sip another fine glass of white Swiss merlot. My hostess, the charmingly garrulous Valentina, daughter of the prizewinning winemaker Claudio Tamborini, explains the viticultural history.
Very quickly. Also lovely honey, and our own olive oil, and cherries, and try the chestnuts. In the winter when Ticino was poor all they ate was chestnuts. I think they must have got bored of chestnuts. Next stop, lunch. Valentina wants me to eat in a grotto. I have an image of sandwiches munched under stalagtites. It turns out, though, that a grotto is a kind of rustic Ticinese bistro, where you sit outdoors at granite tables and drink red Vallombroso wine with fiercely local dishes such as slow-cooked beef shank studded with leeks and lardons and taken with coarsely delicious Malcantone polenta.
It is an expression, on a single plate, of the clashing cultures of Ticino: rural yet refined, Teutonic yet Italianate.
Excellent, but expensive. The name is no misnomer: almost every space in the hotel, from the chic indoor pool to the perfect-for-prosecco terrace and the Michelin-aspiring restaurant, gazes in a kind of astonishment at the spectacular vista of the clustered mountains falling to the sparkling lake.
