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ITALY CAPRI GRAND HOTEL QUISISANA
I arrived, as do all pilgrims to Capri, at the Marina Grande. A porter from the hotel met me on the quayside, whisked away my luggage and, having given me a ticket for the journey, directed me to the entrance to the funicular railway. This, in a few moments, took me right up to the Piazzetta, the tiny square which is the centre of Capri. I could, of course, have taken a taxi – which, on the island, would have been white, open-topped and have forward-facing jump seats. But the expedition by road would have been slower and have left me further from my destination.
As soon as my polished Oxfords touch the marble floor of the entrance hall, I always know once more that the Quisisana is my sort of place. Sparkling white looks well in these warm parts, and here it is in abundance, set off by gilt side tables, plump sofas, thick rugs and a fine staircase sweeping upwards. I like hotels which are not afraid to be monumental. They make me feel physically well – a particularly appropriate response here, for the Quisisana was first opened as a clinic. I was soon in room 127, another essay in albino perfection. The walls were white, the ceiling was white and the ceramic floor tiles (a speciality of this part of Italy) were white (with a few touches of blue decoration). This was a Junior Suite and therefore 660-850 euros a night, bed and breakfast for two, according to season. From its proper hallway a sliding door gave onto the bathroom – with its jaccuzzi-equipped tub, separate shower, brace of wash basins, loo, bidet and bath robes by Frette. Another door led to the bed-sitting room. This was just the sort of accommodation I like: spacious, elegant and well-equipped (the air conditioning was effective and quiet, and there were two televisions). Its sleeping and sitting areas were divided by a round arch. From the twelve foot high ceiling of the former was suspended a large crystal chandelier. Here the bed had been made pleasingly soft for me. In the sitting area was a white sofa and a fauteuil upholstered in white leather. Pieces of furniture in the Classical style – like the writing desk – contributed to the sense of effortless luxury.
Those of you of a thespian inclination will find that the Quisisana offers a special treat – its own theatre. It was designed in 1929 and has the Art Déco feel which would be just right for your version of one of those brittle little plays by Mr Coward. I wandered into this delicious chamber while exploring the gardens, which are well-kept and stocked with tall trees of pine and palm. Nearby is the outdoor swimming pool. I am not a water baby myself, but I know that many are, and it relaxed me to sit for an hour or so, shaded from the sunshine, and read to a background of birdsong and splashing revellers. Knowing that Ernest Hemingway and Jean-Paul Sartre had been previous guests, my thoughts wandered to matters philosophical and I fell into a doze, their ghosts prompting me to wonder whether fighting a bull might be the ultimate existential act…
The cuisine of Executive Chef Stefano Mazzone (pictured) is, of course, Italian. It is based upon the finest ingredients and upon sound culinary technique. He uses tried and trusted combinations of flavours and textures and he properly puts a high priority upon good standards of presentation. As a result, I thoroughly enjoyed all the food I ate at the Quisisana. You will note that, alongside the Chef in my picture, is another gentleman. This is the wonderful Aldo D’Errico – the Restaurant Manager whose expertise, knowledge and tireless enthusiasm turned my gastronomic experiences into special events.
The wine list used by both La Colombaia and the Quisi restaurants is very large and very impressive. Its prices range from 22 euros for a local red to 4,450 euros for 2007 Romanée-Conti. Thirty offerings come from the famous Mr Gaja, with his 1997 Barbaresco at 293ε. There is, I am pleased to report, one German eiswein (silvaner, Guntrum - 120ε). Other bottles to catch my eye were: 1997 Ornellaia (1,100ε), 1997 Solaia (580ε), 1996 Pétrus (2,100ε), 1999 Lafite (580ε), 1995 Yquem (520ε), 1987 Vega Sicilia (385ε), 1997 Grange (460ε) and 2000 Opus One (500ε).
The wine list is a short version of the main list, with 11 wines by the glass (including Krug Grande Cuvée at 30ε) and 90 bottles. Prices go up to 1,750ε for the 2004 Margaux. I appreciated an elegant, un-oaked sauvignon blanc from the Alto Aldige region (Mock, 2009 - 10ε, glass) and a bottle of aglianico from Campania, with a massive structure of ripe black fruit (Grave Mora, Fontana Vecchia, 2004 - 73ε). The sun had shone, both actually and metaphorically, throughout my stay. Famous hotels do not always deserve their fame. This one most certainly does. The Grand Hotel Quisisana is a lovely property, ideally located, luxuriously furnished, wonderfully maintained, expertly managed and possessed of a fine staff. Long may this grande dame continue to flourish. As long as she does, it will always be exciting to go to Capri.
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ADDRESSES
GRAND HOTEL QUISISANA
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© Francis Bown 2003
I find that there is always something terribly exciting about going to Capri. It might be the prospect of admiring the island’s astonishing natural beauty, which has attracted pleasure seekers since Roman times. Or perhaps it is the thought of so many luxury shops, purveying diamonds and knick-knacks to today’s beautiful people. Or it might even be the opportunity to glimpse the villa once occupied by the Nightingale from Rochdale, Gracie Fields. But on this occasion, to be honest, I think what really made my pulse quicken on the boat from Naples was the prospect of staying at one of Europe’s best and most famous hotels: the Grand Hotel Quisisana. This Dowager Duchess of hostelries is so unashamedly traditional that even the mention of her name makes me smile with pleasure.
From the Piazzetta I walked through the chairs of the competing cafés and started, at my usual modest speed, to descend a steep and narrow street. On either side were those expensive emporia, their windows bright with designer clothes and sparkling gems. Then, all at once, with all the bravura of a mediaeval cathedral asserting divine authority over its lowly neighbours, my destination loomed up in front of me: a massive pile of magnolia and white, leaving no onlooker in any doubt that here, indeed, was a luxury hotel.
In 1845 George Clark, a doctor from Scotland, thought – clever fellow – that Capri would be a good place for his restorative practice. So successful was he that, in 1866, he decided to turn his Quisisana Clinic (the word means ‘here one heals’) into his Quisisana Hotel. Now it is owned by the Morgano family and it is a pristine beauty. Much credit for the maintenance of its superlative standards must go to the General Manager, Dr Gianfranco Morgano, and to the Hotel Director, Alessio Lazazzera. I have met the charming Mr Lazazzera (pictured) several times, for he is much in evidence about the hotel. 
Through the sliding glass door was my own large terrace, and I present to you a picture of myself enjoying its charms. When I wanted to be shaded from the sun, I had only to press a button and a shade would extend its protective reach. At its table and chairs (both upright and reclining), I spent many a happy moment, for the view over the hotel grounds to the Mediterranean was enchanting.
This silly conjecture did not, I am pleased to report, dim my appetite. The Quisisana has truly excellent kitchens, and three restaurants. On this particular visit, the most formal – the Quisi Restaurant (pictured, with its lemon tablecloths and crystal chandeliers) – was closed. But I was certainly not deprived.
La Colombaia is next to the swimming pool – a long, low room with plate glass windows, spotlights and an open oven. Here I enjoyed a leisurely lunch, sitting at a round table with a white cloth on the outside terrace. The sun shone, the waiters in cream waistcoats moved hither and thither, the Riedel glasses sparkled and the occasional bird landed to quench its thirst from the pool. The sky was blue above the cliffs and the sea beyond the balustrade was calm. At Mr D’Errico’s suggestion, my comestibles matched the peaceful serenity of the occasion: a plate of the finest cured ham from Spain, made from the Pata Negra pigs which eat acorns and produce meat which is exquisitely nutty; fresh lobster on a bed of linguini, carefully set off by a tomato sauce with a hint of garlic; and a dish of ravishing ice cream, both strawberry and mango. 
And Mr D’Errico and La Colombia played another crucial role in my visit – at breakfast time. I am a man who likes to linger over the breaking of my fast. It is therefore important to me that the first meal of the day should be substantial, of high quality and consumed in civilized surroundings. All these requirements were met in full. The canned music was extinguished, extra cushions were brought for my chair, oranges were squeezed specially for my juice and mushrooms on toast were cooked in the kitchen – and the finest mozzarella I have ever encountered was brought to me table. This presentation was done by Mr D’Errico himself, for mozzarella of this freshness and quality is an important matter. But so many other aspects of the morning ritual were also splendid: the sublime fruit tart, the tasty bacon and the crisp bread rolls – all from the buffet. And, perhaps best of all, the whole grilled sea bass – de-boned expertly by my table by Mr D’Errico and served with a squeeze of lemon. Joy it was at that moment to be alive.
For dinner I went to Rendez-Vous (pictured), the swish bar and dining room, which has its own entrance from the street. Here I sat on a black leather banquette and tucked into four splendid courses, brought to me by waiters in white jackets and black bow ties – overseen by the friendly maitre d’ Mariano Moscovio (pictured). 
First, I could not resist more of that magnificent Pata Negra ham. Then I had that most typical of local dishes, ravioli Caprese – with the cheese-filled pasta elegant on the eye and delicious in the mouth. For my meat course, I returned to England. This Beef Wellington had been well made from top-quality meat. This was a plate to savour. Finally, from the trolley, it was a satisfying rum baba. (Allow 100-120 for four courses. A set meal is available for 70 euros). 