We drove to Castelmezzano to view the town's astonishing landscape, but we discovered, to our surprise, a way of life that has been lost to most of us. Nature, history, culture, food and drink all came together in a perfect balance. And Signora Santoro, the proprietor of the hotel and its restaurant, was the key that unlocked this experience.

The population of the village is less than 1,000. The town has been built into fantastic towers of rock, which have provided protection for centuries. But also isolation. You can see today how the village survives on an agricultural economy of chickens, sheep and goats, with small plots of food crops planted here and there. The hotel rooms open up onto a panoramic view of the village embraced by the looming rock forms.

Signora Santoro points across the valley to the village of Pietrapertosa, set in equally otherworldly spires of rock. That, she explains, was the Arab village. The history of this area, with Saracens and Normans glaring across at each other from their stronghold settlements comes alive.

The hotel accommodations are comfortable, solid, in unpretentious good taste. And the hotel is beautifully situated with panoramic views from the bedrooms, and easy access to the central square, the church and shops.

But the real experience is in the restaurant. Signora Santoro is a highly accomplished chef, with plaudits from Michelin, Gambero Rosso, etc. What is really extraordinary is her cooking's connection with the place. She asked every morning what we would like for dinner -- that was her menu! We put ourselves entirely in her hands. A pork dish arrives; "that is from my pigs," she announces with obvious pride. She puts before us a salad made from primula that she has picked that morning. She explains that it has been used in the area from prehistoric times for its detoxifying properties. And she tells us of other herbals grown around the village that are used in the local diet. Her cooking, then, not only gives pleasure; it gives health, it gives life.

She sets before us a dessert of some sort of semolina pudding with swirls of colours and flavours, all packed into a miniature canning jar. We pop open the lids to find a disk of chocolate and the layers of pudding underneath. We are peeping like enchanted children. Why the little jars, we ask. She says she doesn't know; she just thought of it that morning. She bustles back into her kitchen chuckling to herself.

Our recommendation: it's not just the hotel; it's the landscape, the food, Basilicata wines, and the spirit of the people. Go and enjoy.