Upper Como

The narrow road winds through dense stands of chestnut and beech before arriving at Upper Como, where the air carries the cool scent of mountain streams and pine needles. Early mornings here bring the gentle murmur of the nearby San Jorio Creek threading its way through rocky beds, while birds flit between ancient oaks, punctuating the silence with melodic calls. The village of Como stretches below, its terracotta rooftops glinting faintly in the distance, but here the world feels quieter, slowed by the rhythm of the surrounding Alpine foothills.

Daylight invites exploration along the Sentiero del Viandante, a historic trail tracing the eastern shore of Lake Como, just a few kilometers down winding provincial roads. Hikers often set out toward the village of Bellagio, where cobbled streets and lakeside cafes offer a charming reward after the climb. For those preferring water, the lake's edge lies within a short drive, its glassy surface reflecting the craggy silhouettes of the Grigne massif. Wildlife watchers might spot roe deer slipping between firs or hear the distant call of a black woodpecker echoing through the forested slopes.

Upper Como’s campground sprawls across terraced clearings carved into the hillside, each pitch offering shade under tall chestnuts and panoramic views of the valley below. Tent campers appreciate the soft, humus-rich soil cushioning their stakes, while RV spots provide level, spacious pads with reliable 220V hookups and easy access even for larger rigs. Communal washing areas maintain steady hot water, their rustic stone walls blending seamlessly with the natural surroundings. WiFi signals fluctuate but often hold steady near the small reception cabin, where hosts greet arrivals with a warm, knowing smile and local tips scribbled on a chalkboard.

As dusk settles, the chorus of crickets rises alongside the crackling of campfires, and the distant twinkle of Como’s town lights competes gently with the stars overhead. Visitors return here season after season, drawn by the quiet invitation of the hills, the tactile presence of the forest, and the steady pulse of the creek that threads through it all.