When one thinks of Lake Como, olive trees are rarely the first image to appear. Villas, ferries, and mountain silhouettes dominate the postcards. Yet hidden among these familiar symbols lies a quieter heritage: the olive groves. Scattered along sunny slopes and clinging to terraced hillsides, they are as much a part of the lake’s story as silk or stone. Their silver leaves shimmer in the breeze, reflecting both Mediterranean light and Alpine resilience. To walk among them in autumn is to rediscover forgotten traditions that once bound communities together.
Ancient roots in a northern land
The cultivation of olives around Lake Como may seem surprising so far north, but it dates back nearly two millennia. Roman sources mention olive oil production in the region, and archaeological evidence suggests that groves were already planted in favorable microclimates. The lake’s waters, acting as a natural thermal reservoir, softened harsh winters, creating a Mediterranean pocket at the foot of the Alps.
During the Middle Ages, monasteries took on a central role in preserving and expanding olive cultivation. Monks planted groves near abbeys and sanctuaries, not only for nourishment but also for symbolic and liturgical purposes. Olive oil was essential for church rituals, lamps, and healing balms. The association between sacred space and olive groves can still be sensed around sanctuaries such as Madonna del Soccorso above Ossuccio, where terraces once lined the slopes.
The rhythm of the harvest
Harvesting olives was traditionally a communal task. In autumn, families and neighbors gathered with baskets and ladders, shaking branches and hand-picking fruit to avoid bruising. Nets stretched beneath the trees caught the olives before they were carried to local frantoi, the stone mills powered by men or animals. There, great presses slowly released oil in a process both physical and ceremonial.
The arrival of the first oil—olio nuovo—was celebrated with tastings in the village square. Warm bread dipped into golden liquid, accompanied by laughter and wine, marked the close of another agricultural cycle. Older residents still recall the smell of fresh oil filling courtyards and the sense of pride that came with producing even a small supply.
Forgotten traditions and sayings
Like many agricultural cultures, olive-growing gave rise to sayings that survive in memory even as daily practice has faded. Local proverbs praised the olive tree’s resilience: “L’ulivo campa cent’anni e più,” the olive lives a hundred years and more. Another, more practical, reminded farmers that patience was key: “Chi pianta ulivi, pianta per i figli.” Whoever plants olives, plants for their children. Such words reflected the long view of time that olive groves required, an inheritance more than a quick reward.
The taste of the lake’s oil
Lake Como’s olive oil is not produced in large volumes, but its flavor is distinct. Light, almost delicate, with notes of grass, almond, and herbs, it differs from the more robust oils of the south. The trees often grow at higher altitudes, exposed to cooler air, which lends subtlety and freshness. Bottles labeled under the “Olio di Lombardia” PDO (Protected Designation of Origin) carry the guarantee of authenticity, but each producer adds nuances shaped by soil and microclimate.
Traditionally, this oil flavored simple, local dishes: drizzled over grilled perch or lavarello from the lake, added raw to polenta, or used to dress hearty salads of beans and chestnuts. Even today, tasting it is to experience the culinary identity of the lake in its most elemental form.
Olives and the landscape
Beyond flavor, olive trees shape the look of Lake Como. Their silver foliage softens the slopes, catching sunlight in a way that contrasts with dark cypresses and chestnut woods. Dry-stone terraces, built generation after generation, reveal the labor that sustained them. Some of these walls still stand intact, others crumble, but all remind us that the land was once intensely cultivated.
From vantage points above Lenno, Varenna, or Perledo, one sees how groves spill toward the water, blending with vineyards and gardens. In autumn, the colors intensify: leaves shimmer silver against the gold of chestnuts and the blue of the lake. It is a palette unique to this place, one that makes the groves both agricultural and aesthetic treasures.
Decline and rediscovery
By the late 19th and early 20th centuries, many olive groves fell into neglect. Industrialization pulled workers into cities and factories, while imported oils made local production uneconomical. Terraces collapsed, trees grew wild, and traditions risked disappearing entirely.
Yet in recent decades, a quiet revival has begun. Local associations and small cooperatives have restored groves, rebuilt walls, and pressed oil once more. In places like Lenno or Domaso, families tend olive trees planted by their grandparents, proud to keep alive a fragile heritage. Festivals celebrating the new oil have returned, attracting both locals and curious visitors.
Experiences for today’s traveler
For those exploring Lake Como, olive groves offer a different kind of tourism—slower, more intimate, and deeply tied to tradition. Walking paths often lead through groves, where visitors can see trees hundreds of years old still bearing fruit. Small agriturismi invite guests to taste oil with bread, cheese, and wine, while explaining the history of each terrace. In autumn, guided tours of harvests allow travelers to participate in gathering olives and watch them pressed into liquid gold.
One of the most engaging experiences is following the “Greenway del Lago,” a path that winds through olive landscapes, chapels, and villages, revealing views both of the lake and the groves that once sustained its people.
The olive as symbol
More than any other crop, the olive tree carries symbolic weight. Across cultures it represents peace, endurance, and rebirth. On Lake Como, where storms sweep suddenly and winters can be harsh, the olive embodies resilience. Trees may bend, branches may freeze, but roots endure. In this, the olive mirrors the communities of the lake themselves—persistent, adaptive, rooted in tradition yet open to renewal.
A quiet heritage by the water
Olive groves along Lake Como may not dominate guidebooks, but they are essential to its identity. They represent centuries of labor, memory, and connection between people and land. To walk among them in autumn, when the air smells of earth and fruit, is to rediscover a forgotten story—one told not in grand monuments but in silver leaves shimmering above blue waters.
Forgotten perhaps, but never lost, the olive groves remain guardians of memory and tradition by the lake. They invite us to slow down, to taste, to listen, and to see Lake Como not only as a place of beauty but as a living landscape where the past still speaks through stone, soil, and tree.
