Palazzo Talia

It’s hot, very hot. Days later, Rome will appear on the BBC as the most scorchio place in Europe at the end of June.

It requires an exceptional sort of welcome, therefore, for none of this to matter as Miss Smith and I are whooshed into the bosom of the Palazzo Talìa, which is quite possibly the coolest (in all senses of the word) hotel opening Rome has witnessed in recent years. Wincingly hip because — drum roll here — it is film director Luca Guadagnino’s first foray into hotels. And, conjure up the most devastating mise-en-scène, it’s not only created by Guadagnino (best known for Call Me By Your Name and I Am Love), but fittingly bang in the centre of the most film-set-y of European capitals.

Indeed, it’s the cinematic elegance that hits you. That and the fact that Ginevra Santaniello, the hotel’s operations manager, a picture of patrician poise, is wearing a sharply tailored, waist-cinching Vivienne Westwood blazer when it’s 42 degrees Celsius outside.

Golden hour bathes everything in magic but here, muted vignettes worthy of a World of Interiors spread abound: light dancing on the walls of the frescoed bar as the sun dips and cocktail shakers are lined up for aperitivo hour, the flickering of shadows highlighting the silver disco tiles that are punctuated with what look like brightly coloured Fruit Pastilles.

The communal spaces of the palazzo have been curated by Studio Luca Guadagnino, the interiors and architecture practice the director set up in 2017, while the bedrooms have been designed by Mia Home Design Gallery and Laura Feroldi Studio.

We are whisked to our room, our luggage somehow teleported, miraculously arriving before it’s taken us all of a minute to float up the stairs, stroking the plissé-leather rail and sinking into the sumptuousness of the dense, hand-knotted carpet with oversize swirls in cobalt blue, tobacco and sage green underfoot.

And really, this is what is so special about Palazzo Talìa, formerly the 16th-century Nobile Collegio del Nazareno, the oldest scholastic institution in Rome (and one of the oldest in Italy, moments from the Trevi Fountain and Spanish Steps) — it’s the extraordinary attention to sensuous detail. It’s a masterclass in the deft weaving together of architectural features, aesthetics spanning different eras and a sublime colour palette. Everywhere you look are buttery textures and a rich interplay of light and shadows. Volumes of space are notable too, and despite it being a building of clearly grand portions, there are only 26 rooms, so it still manages to feel hushed and intimate.

In our room, instead of the usual ‘meh’ artwork found in most hotels, hang pieces from the archive of Roman photographer Elisabetta Catalano: defiant images of artists from the 1970s. Even the reading banquette, with its plush duck-egg-blue velvet and yellow lacquer table, makes another arresting tableaux, which, as Miss Smith will attest, serves Instagram perfection. As too does the oversize, Willy Wonka-esque glass elevator with a roomy blue sofa that begs you to sit down and take a picture.

Staying at Palazzo Talìa means you don’t mind too much when you fail (twice) to make your Colosseum and Roman Forum time slot. The first because Miss Smith overstays a five-minute browse at Gammarelli (the institution selling silk socks to the pope since 1798 — we come away with three pairs); the second, because after an excellent massage from Maria, the hotel’s therapist, I’m too blissed out to put one foot in front of the other.

Still, we find better, less touristy jewels. As well as a delicious sampling of supplì (fried rice balls filled with tomato sauce and mozzarella, similar to arancini) and a maritozzo, a Roman speciality of brioche bun filled with orange zest, vanilla, honey and cream, at Sant' Eustachio Il Caffè, we visit Palazzo Altemps, one of the sites of the National Roman Museum.

It is utterly bewildering to enter such an exquisite, quasi-deserted building a stone’s throw from the crazy queues at the Pantheon. We wonder at the tonally contrasting marble in the chapel and take 500 photos of the frescoed portico terrace. The sculptures, curated so they have space to breathe, are a delight and we enjoy them in almost monastic silence. If you are looking for the world’s best reading nook, this is it.

The following day, we venture further out of Rome. Even during such a short stay — and while braving a heatwave — this is totally worth the two-hour schlep. The hotel staff are excellent in helping us navigate the journey by train and taxi. It is a pilgrimage of sorts, to visit the magnificent Villa Farnese, a pentagonal palazzo in Caprarola, built in the Renaissance and Mannerist tradition by Giacomo Barozzi da Vignola in 1556 for the Farnese family.

A highlight of the trip was seeing the incredible Loggia di Hercules on the piano nobile, which was once the summer dining room, with enormous windows looking out to the Monte Cimini. Again, we were two of only 20 visitors in this vast estate, so we did really get to enjoy it all to ourselves.

We return exhausted yet elated in time for dinner at the hotel, which is taken in the courtyard. Luca the chef hails from Sorrento and specialises in raw fish. We tuck into the most exquisite sea-bass and lemon.

Our last afternoon is spent in the spa — it is pushing 45 degrees by this point of the weekend, is my excuse — where the small pool is designed to resemble a grotto with shimmery green tiles. We while away the time in the Turkish bath, sauna and cold plunge, plotting how we might return and stay in the Talìa Suite, the pinnacle of Guadagnino’s design here.

It is entered via a long corridor lined with Roman and Greek busts, for which the hotel worked with Italy’s ministry of culture and conservation. The room, which also hosts weddings and receptions, can be transformed into two lounge areas and three adjoining bedrooms. Any moment I’m expecting Tilda Swinton to sweep in through a door.

It isn’t easy for a hotel to rival the capital it stands in, especially one as compelling as the Eternal City. Do we want to venture out and see the rest of Rome? Reluctantly.