Although it does sound like the title of my brand new romantic yet semi erotic novel, the Bellagio mansion is in fact a travel story. I know, it took me quite a while to write a new travel blogpost and I must apologize for this delay. It must seem like I don’t really like to blog anymore. And perhaps you are right. Maybe blogging has become too mainstream since the Belgian tv network VIJF started airing their show about bloggers. Have you seen it by the way? Do you think it’s a good thing I got thrown out? I only saw the first episode, so I can’t really say anything about it.

Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’ve lost my travel edge. Could be the case, you know. I don’t know. I did book a short getaway to Prague, to celebrate the last days of freedom of Sebastian, one of my best buddies. Don’t worry: I’ll show you pictures when that’s done. And you will like em! And also I am planning a trip to Venice for the Biennale di Venezia. Exciting. This must mean the traveling part still gets my blood flowing. Still gets me hard, if you know what I mean. It must be the blogging part then. Nah, who am I kidding? I love writing stuff the three of you love to read. Sometimes it just gets difficult to find the time and energy, you know…

But, here we are again, with a fucking amazing story. About a mansion in Bellagio, Italy. This is magical, man, I tells ya. It’s not a story anymore, over the years it’s turned into a legend. But first things first: explain where Bellagio is. I will keep this short and simple: GOOGLE IT! So, you just found out Bellagio is – except for a ridiculously cool casino in Las Vegas – a small and very picturesque town on the shore of Lake Como in the north of Italy. But what Google failed to mention is that I went there for the first time exactly ten years ago when I was traveling through Italy with my mate who is getting married soon and who’ll motorboat many of fine Czech boobs. We weren’t actually staying in Bellagio, no, we got lucky with a hotel on the other side of the lake, in Menagio. A fine town itself, I must say. But obviously we took a boat to Bellagio and found a mansion. Ow boy, a beautiful mansion indeed.

I know you think you will read an amazing story about this mansion now, but that will not be the case. It was for sale. That’s all. But it was fucking beautiful. And if I had many millions in my pocket at that time, I would have bought it on the spot. Instead of putting it all down g-strings of Czech strippers in June 2013, you know.

Anyway, back to Bellagio. This place is called the Pearl of the Lake. Don’t ask why, because it’s beautiful, you dumbass. It’s romantic, it’s pretty, it’s small, it’s infested with celebrities. But so is Menagio. And probably the rest of Lake Como. So please go there. ASAP.

Como 0

Como 8

Como 7

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Como 5

Como 1

Como 2
This is actually the back of my buddy’s head, back in 2003, when he still had hair. When he wasn’t motorboating Czech boobs.

Como 4

the.ego.tripper loves family resorts, bingo, kids peeing in the pool, breakfast buffets, hotel animation, tourist traps and group day tours.

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