Solo travel is now seen as the ultimate flex for women my age – in their late 30s. And I can see the allure: you can go at your own pace, enjoy some undisturbed R&R, and if the itinerary is a flop, you only have yourself to blame – or ChatGPT. Though as an extrovert, the idea of more than a couple of nights alone is enough to bring me out in hives.
However, when an invitation landed in my inbox to bookend a scenic train journey through the Alps with a stay in one of Switzerland’s quaintest towns, and a long weekend at one of Como’s most prestigious addresses – I was sure this would be the solo holiday for me. Plenty of changes of scene, an epic spa stay and the opportunity to retox in Bellagio? A best of both worlds trip that surely would leave me no time to be bored.
First stop: Grand Resort, Bad Ragaz (double rooms from £756, resortragaz.ch), which is renowned for its detoxifying thermal water supply, or ‘liquid gold’ as the hotel staff call it. It runs through the pretty Heidi town which gives the hotel its name, and a spring on-site supplies the hotel’s ornate Helenabad baths, and pools in the Tamina Therme. The 233-bedroom stay, which sprawls over 200 acres, is also a renowned medi-spa, with its recently opened Tamina Health Centre attracting many wealthy guests who come to recoup after surgery, or to take one of its advanced programmes, for everything from longevity to weight loss. Seeing many of your fellow guests navigating the hotel’s corridors in crutches took some getting used to – though after an afternoon spent administering myself some contrast therapy in the spas, dipping in and out of its six saunas, baths and ice grotto, my shoulders were firmly lowered, and I was blissfully in my own world when I floated back to room to read and order sushi.
Continuing with my detox, on day two I took a hike up to the source, Tamina Gorge, taking in the fresh alpine air while being passed by multiple horses and their carts – no cars in sight. Back in the town centre on my way to the hotel, several children were queuing for a drink from a public fountain while a trusty Lassie dog sat patiently waiting for its young owner. It felt like a mirage of wholesomeness. I was definitely not in London anymore. The trip’s highlight, however, was dinner at the main restaurant, Sven Wassmer Memories, which boasts three Michelin stars and one green Michelin star for its seasonal menus which reinterpret Swiss Alpine cuisine. While the idea of savouring a six-course tasting menu alone was daunting, after a conveyor belt of chefs, waiting staff and sommeliers delivered me different dishes, accompanying wines and titbits about the provenance of the ingredients, it was over in a flash. The only thoughts I had noted were that I’d tasted the best Blanc de Blanc and cured salmon of my life, and that each chef who came to my table was perhaps even better looking than the last. I went to bed happy and a little tipsy.
The next morning, after loading up at the breakfast buffet, replete with bottomless cured meats and more types of seeds and dried fruit for my granola than I knew existed, I headed to the station in Bad Ragaz to catch my train. The Bernina Express is renowned for its affordable price tag (around £90, including a mandatory seat reservation cost to sit in the panoramic carriage, berninarailway.com) while offering breathtaking views from huge picture windows, as it snakes through the Alps, starting in Chur (20 minutes back from Bad Ragaz) and ending in Tirana.
During the four-hour journey I had no time to ruminate on life back at home. As the train slid smoothly over 200 bridges and through 55 tunnels on the century-old Rhaetian Railway route, I was captivated by epic mountains, glittering lakes and glaciers. Half way through my Alpine odyssey, a small child rushed over open-palmed to show me the ‘Schneeflocke’ he had caught from the open window of the train door. And as the Bernina halted for a few minutes at a traffic light, I joined him to stick my head out of the window and marvel at the fir-framed wonderland beyond the track, engulfed in an unseasonal storm of pretty snowflakes. Once I had pulled into Tirano, after a couple of hours’ drive, I was greeted by the Como I’d seen on postcards. Under bright blue skies, wind surfers traversed the lake and I saw a local bobbing in his boat while reading a book, soaking in the last of the day’s rays, topless. What would scream ‘performative male' behaviour in London qualified as living la dolce vita here.
Arriving at Grand Hotel Villa Serbelloni (rooms from £733, breakfast included, villaserbelloni.com), a family-owned grand dame dating back to 1854, I was quickly ushered through to the bar for a snack. Whether it was the fact I’d only eaten a portion of Swiss chocolates in the past five hours, or my enthusiasm for my first taste of local food - I declared that the parmesan covered lasagne was the best I’d ever tasted. Behind me, a woman sat in a low-lit booth, sipping a martini while her two basset hounds melted onto the ornate tiles beneath them. Another icon, I noted.
My room for the next two nights was the ‘Duchess’ suite and it was the closest thing to a museum I had ever bedded down in. Perfectly preserved antique furniture and gilded mirrors filled the room, as well as a bed topped with the hotel’s signature handmade silk bedspreads. Its balcony and window perfectly frame views of the lake and the Alps beyond. My next day in Como began with a cruise on a traditional Venetian boat, and my captain Ronny gave me a whistle-stop tour of all of the most notable houses around the lake. There was The Succession House, The Clooney Wedding Venue, and the iconic Villa del Balbianello – the spot where Anakin & Padmé wed in Star Wars: Episode II.
I spent the afternoon continuing to survey the lake while outstretched on one of chic striped loungers at the hotel’s new Baci da Bellagio beach club. Taking intermittent dips into the choppy waters via the hotel’s storied steps. Then come evening, just in time for sunset, I sat down for the second solo tasting menu of my trip, at the hotel’s lake-view restaurant, Ristorante Mistral. Again, I was so enthralled by the dishes proffered by the elegantly-dressed waiting staff, from peacock tortellini to veal with truffle, that time flew by.
As a way of a finale, two waiters did the nearest equivalent of a magic trick in Italian cuisine, whipping up ice cream at my table, as nitrogen erupted into the air. The next morning, I ended my trip with a jaunt around the breathtaking I Giardini di Villa Melzi botanical gardens, where I had plenty of Neoclassical statues to hobnob with. And as I dashed back to the hotel to catch my cab to the airport, I wished I had a few more days to spend with myself. The Alps had given me a taste for solo travel.
