Lake Garda, Italy: the glories of Italy's largest lake

In 1921 Ezra Pound wrote to James Joyce from a pink-walled hotel that still today overlooks Sirmione's harbour on Lake Garda: "Dear Joyce, I'd like you to spend a week here with me. The location is well worth the journey – both Catullus and I can guarantee it!" It is still worth the journey.

It was another poet – Tennyson – who drew me to Garda. Or, rather, Tennyson and Catullus together, touching hands across time. The English poet's moving description of a visit to the ruins of the lakeside home of the "tenderest of Roman poets" fired my imagination. The shores of Garda are studded with pretty harbour towns, but it was Sirmione I wanted to see, perched on a narrow strip of land two miles long, reaching into the lake from the southern shore.

Sirmione, with its cobbled streets, its 13th-century castle and, above all, the ruined Roman villa lying at the tip of the promontory: the Grotte di Catullo – not a grotto, but that's what the early Venetian explorers called it when they came upon what they thought were natural caves in the thick undergrowth, not realising they had stumbled on a vast treasure, the most important Roman site in northern Italy.

^{(Theo Richmond)}

Shortly before she died in Paris in 1977 Maria Callas told a friend how much she missed Sirmione – over the years she retreated regularly to her villa on the lake to escape from the stress of the limelight.

But the town is no longer the haven of peace it was when she knew it. Today, holidaymakers swarm off the ferries, settle at waterfront cafés, line up for multicoloured, gravity-defying cones of local ice cream and jostle their way through the tiny, winding streets. As well as the usual trinket shops, Sirmione has thermal baths and a health centre with hot springs and treatments. It is best visited in spring or late summer; in high season the town centre is engulfed by tourists. Whenever you go, a few hundred yards from the harbour the crowds dwindle and calm descends. From here you can walk or take the trenino, a little toytown "train" up the gently sloping road, past glimpses of a grand hotel secluded in shady grounds, until you reach the headland and the entrance to what has become accepted, despite some academic doubts, as the Catullus family villa. And here Tennyson's dream comes to life: the Roman poet's olive-silvery "all-but-island", with purple flowers cascading from the crumbling walls.

Around lie the ruins, reclaimed from the rubble of the centuries. What might have been an atrium is now a grassy, undulating olive grove, surrounded by pillars, arcaded colonnades, stables, baths and rooms; the triple-arched "window of paradise" frames a view of azure water. The honey-coloured stone dazzles in the bright morning, glows rosy at sunset, softening to a pastel grey as the light leaves the sky. It is a place to visit and revisit, wander and explore. Winding paths are lined with hedges of fragrant rosemary interspersed with bushy bay trees, scented herbs underfoot. Below, at the foot of the cliffs, lies a long, narrow beach, the sand shelving into the waters of this inland sea. Here, Sirmione retains its healing calm.

Why don't we hear more about Garda? Italy's largest lake, blessed with a benign climate and diversity of landscape, with Venice to the east and Milan to the west, remains curiously uncelebrated, overshadowed by Como with its famous gardens and villas, though Garda has so much to offer.

The north end is edged with jagged mountains at its sword-narrow tip – the Altogarda, which once formed a border between Italy and Austria, and where today hardy types enjoy windsurfing, paragliding, mountain walking and climbing. The northernmost points, Riva and Torbole, charmed Goethe, who called the view "a precious spectacle".

Writers have sung Garda's praises over the centuries. Halfway down, at Gargnano, DH Lawrence and Frieda lived for several months – a marble plaque identifies the house. "The lake lies dim and milky," Lawrence wrote, "the mountains are dark blue... the sky glistens... the light burns gold." As the lake widens, it changes character, with almost Mediterranean settings of open-air cafés, pebble beaches and picturesque harbours, a Janus-faced landscape as fir and pine trees give way to olive and lemon groves.

Lawrence wrote of the "exquisite scent of lemon flowers", and described ancient limonaie – huge greenhouses with removable roof planks to protect the trees in winter. Visit in spring and Garda's lemon trees should be in fragrant bloom.

This ladle-shaped expanse of water, 50 miles long and 11 across at its widest, is a holiday destination now (it even has Gardaland, a huge theme park, nearby to keep the children occupied), but in earlier centuries it carried more commercial traffic: goods and travellers were transported across the lake and, according to Virgil, "the waters could heave with waves and roar like a sea in tempest".

No such storms while I crisscross from town to town on the frequent and punctual ferries. The blue waters are ringed by slopes of vineyards in the lower basin, the local speciality – Bardolino – a blend of corvina, rondinella, molinara and sangiovese grapes. There are oenophile holidaymakers who drive from vineyard to vineyard, enjoying their tastings, happily ignoring the literary associations and the little sailing boats tacking from shore to horizon.

The trick to getting the best out of Garda is to find a congenial base and spend leisurely days exploring the lake, picking out what each little town has to offer. Tennyson's poem began: "Row us out from Desenzano," and he chose his base wisely: the guidebooks have been unfair to Desenzano, the largest of the lakeside towns, just a short boat ride from Sirmione, though it's a ferry now, no boatmen on hand to "row us out". The guides describe it somewhat patronisingly as "a good transport hub". It is much more, with a rich old quarter, lively cafés, surprisingly good restaurants, a 12th-century castle looming above the port, and the ruin of a substantial Roman villa, with fine mosaic floors.

The cathedral has an unconventional Last Supper by Tiepolo, and the tiny, arcaded Venetian harbour, almost landlocked, is one of the most picturesque on the entire lake, lined with tables for eating outdoors. A hundred yards along, the port quayside is busy with ferries, catamarans and hydrofoils. A short walk away are pebbly beaches, umbrellas, recliners. Frequent trains can whizz you to Verona in half an hour.

Spoilt for choice, we harbour-hop from Desenzano: one day to Lazise, with its castle rising from the water's edge, restaurants tucked close beneath the crenellated walls and red Venetian houses; then to Salò, with its arcaded waterfront and curving, tree-lined promenade. It was in Salò that Mussolini briefly set up the unofficial headquarters of his doomed "Italian Socialist Republic".

At Gardone Riviera, poised high above the lake, with sweeping views of parkland and shoreline, Gabriele d'Annunzio, Italy's flamboyant soldier-poet, egomaniac and lover of women, built his own dream republic, a vast, dazzlingly eccentric estate called the Vittoriale, which spreads across an entire hillside. Just one example of d'Annunzio bravura: a complete boat, cut up, brought in by train and reassembled, lies stranded like a beached whale high on the hill among the trees.

The rambling house with private museum is a must-see oddity, filled with d'Annunzio's bizarre collections – 10,000 objects, many connected with the women in his life. Crammed into the rooms are paintings, statues, stained glass, antiques, books, musical instruments, gleaming vintage cars. The propeller of his seaplane hangs from a ceiling. One room is an Arabian tent with gold and black damask walls; nearby a flamboyant Art Deco dining room has a gilded turtle on the table.

Each little town brings discoveries: a church rich with Renaissance frescoes, ancient walls, a botanical garden, a flower-lined promenade, a ski lift soaring high into the mountains and, of course, the local red wine – and where better to taste it than Bardolino, elegant and potently pretty, relaxed but classy; a 19th-century feel to the esplanade with its Edwardian villas and decorative wrought-iron gates.

Umbrella-shaded tables cluster at the water's edge; cool, dark wineries line the main street. One, a cavernous cantina with a minstrel gallery stacked with barrels, is part of the Loggia Rambaldi overlooking the marina. Tables outside are ranged round the elegant, four-square 16th-century building, now a ristorante. Step inside and you find a dining room, exquisitely proportioned, the vaulted ceiling supported by a forest of slender columns. Lunch deserves to be lingered over, particularly the seafood. Unlike the kitchens of Venice, where restaurants are often geared to undemanding tourist trade, Garda's are the real thing.

This lower end of the lake, with its Mediterranean flavour, lulls the visitor into a sense of leisure. The unhurried pace of life, the agreeable nature of the small journeys, stepping on and off the ferries, bobbing up and down on the blue water – it's all part of the easy, Italian dolce far niente, the sweet idleness of life where ferry timetables are all you need to worry about, and the world of conflicts large and small can be, for a while, forgotten.

Lake Garda essentials

Verona, Milan and Brescia are the nearest airports for the southern part of Lake Garda – try ba.com, easyjet.com and ryanair.com. There are train or bus connections to the lake (eg, trains from Verona to Desenzano every half-hour, journey approx 40 min). Ferries and hydrofoils call at the lakeside towns throughout the day; information/ticket kiosks can be found at the jetties. The faster boats cost more. Pick up a timetable and plan itineraries with ferry schedules in mind. Some passes cover several journeys.

Local buses also link the towns, cheaper but not always following scenic routes, and in high season traffic can be heavy. In Desenzano, the three-star Hotel Piroscafo (hotelpiroscafo.it) is right by the lake, with tables outside on the old Venetian harbour; double rooms from €80 (￡67). In Sirmione, the refurbished four-star Hotel Eden (hoteledensirmione.it) has lake views and a private jetty for sunbathing; double rooms from about €100 (￡84).

Some of Garda's lemon gardens can be visited. The limonaia at Porto di Tignale is due to reopen at Easter (0039 0365 7144). At Torri del Benaco, the castello houses a 300-year-old limonaia. In June, Bardolino holds a wine festival and Malcesine a fish festival. Check for further details with local tourist offices.

More information: tourism.verona.it; bresciatourism.it