Bulgari Hotel

We’d heard a lot about the Bulgari Hotel in Milan from friends in fashion and we were expecting something upscale and sexy, and we weren’t disappointed. The hotel is tucked away in a very quiet private street near the prime credit-card sweat zone of Via Montenapoleone, and has a sense of space rare in a city-centre site. Our first impression was of a grand, almost imposing building: a perfect backdrop for the many Italian designer labels for sale around the corner, and of course Bulgari jewellery. Sometimes these chic fashionista hotels are staffed by people who resent not being customers themselves. Not the Bulgari: from the moment we were allowed through the plate-glass door, we knew the service was going to be as good as the best anywhere in the world.

The interior is a chocolate box of browns, blacks and whites, with an expensive, soft-minimal feel. Staff are uniformed, and you’ll never see a loose end or a scuff mark; even the flower-delivery boys looked super-sharp, though half obscured by the enormous green hydrangea heads they were positioning in the lounge. Here, there are design books to browse, and a fireplace for winter. It has a slightly masculine appeal; the Bulgari would make the ideal seduction scene for the sort of young man who gets upmarket mens monthlies for the girls and the gear, and sharp-witted current affairs weeklies for the gossip.

Our room was pared-down but luxurious, with teak, oak and quintessentially Italian furniture, designed by Citterio. (Architects Citterio and Partners are responsible, in fact, for the whole hotel.) The bathroom was so wildly to our liking that we decided to spend a couple of hours before dinner ensconced in there. We raided the mini-bar of house champagne, lit the candles, and took a long soak in the tub. The rooms are loaded with indulgent items, from the soap and huge bath towels, to the two flatscreen TVs. Luckily, our room overlooked the garden and bar, or we would not have been able to pull ourselves together to leave it at all. The allure of the scene downstairs was too great and we decided to take a closer look.

The bar was buzzing with smart locals hanging out after work (a good sign for an international hotel). In the evening sun,we sat among voguish business people, several Japanese couples and a handful of yummy-mummy types, looking out over the hotel’s mini-Versailles garden. Inside, on the other side of an oval spaceship of a bar, the restaurant feels something like an auditorium. The food is ambitious, and the service impeccable. After our vain attempt to walk off suckling pig and a bottle of wine, the downy bed was a friend indeed.

Milan isn’t an obvious choice for a typically Italian lovers’ jaunt, but you can’t say you’ve seen Italy if you’ve only experienced Florence and Venice. This is a living city; there’s nothing museumlike about it. And if you like shopping, you’ll love it. We entertained the idea of strolling though areas of town we hadn’t seen before, but the pull of the shops was too great. 10 Corso Como is the benchmark lifestyle store. It is a must-see – a must-browse – even though it is expensive. It sells clothes, rare books, music, even household goods. The café is an ideal lunchtime spot, where you can eat simple food made with very high quality ingredients, in a courtyard dappled in sunlight.

After more shopping along exclusive Via della Spiga, we went back to the hotel for a well-earned rest. My wife decided on a rebalancing chakra stone therapy and facial in the spa, while I set off to pound the treadmill. She came back feeling completely refreshed, rejuvenated and rebalanced, which was a delightful surprise for both of us, and worth every penny. The spa is a major selling point: it is utterly private and the pool is well-sized, mosaic-tiled and romantically lit.

It was late when we finished, and we wanted to eat good food somewhere casual. We’d booked at the Roman trattoria Giulio Pane e Ojo on Via Ludovico Muratori, not far from Porta Romana, where we ate extremely good pasta e fagioli and chicken with rosemary.

We decided on a very lazy last morning,moving very slowly from bed to bath and back to bed. We had left our children behind and wanted to make the most of it. When we did emerge from the hotel, it was only to visit the greatest delicatessen in the world, Peck on Via Spadari. No trip to Milan is complete without a pilgrimage here; in fact, its own-label olive oil is something you must bring back with you. There are many more things to tempt the tastebuds – we filled our bags and emptied our pockets. Maybe the faintly ascetic vibe at the Bulgari (well, it was a monastery a few hundred years ago) inspired us to indulge in a spot of greed. Actually, come to think of it, its super-sleek spaces are perfect for almost any kind of sin you can think of. And if your kind of seduction involves a spot of shopping, so much the better.