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I met Sam three years ago in Corsica, where he owned a luxury beach resort. So when he called me recently and bellowed down the phone, "We've moved to Spain. Come and have lunch with the Flintstones of Guadix," I thought he'd taken too much of that French island sun.

After a quick google, however, I learnt about Guadix’s troglodyte barrio at the top of town, where 2000 families still live in subterranean houses. A weepy photo showed a studded oak door set into a big mud mound. If it was easy enough to imagine Sam Gamgee from Lord of the Rings living in this troglodyte dwelling, I found it a lot more difficult to picture Sam Black, a businessman in his sixties hailing from southern England, calling this burrow 'home'. Unable to resist, one sunny day in late Spring I hauled out my old green jeep and set off to accept Sam's intriguing invitation.

Just an hour’s drive out of Granada, Guadix lies at the heart of arid countryside dotted with wild asparagus and prickly pear and dominated by the mighty Sierra Nevada. Wild it might be, but visitors still flock here each year to see the area’s unique housing, which is pretty wild in its own right.

Inhabited since Roman times Guadix’s barrio troglodyte is one of the oldest cave settlements in Spain. Thousands of years ago holes were dug out of the soft tufa with animal bones to provide rudimentary shelter. Easy to ‘build’ and easy to maintain, these en-suite rabbit holes rapidly became the area’s principal form of habitation. When bricks and mortar hit town many cave houses were abandoned. Until a decade ago, that is, when ‘those crazy foreigners’ started buying up the cheap cuevas and transforming them into highly original holiday homes.

Despite his troglodyte lifestyle, my pal Sam looks nothing like a hobbit. He is the spitting image of a ‘crazy foreigner’, however. Egg-shaped skull sheltered under a floppy hat and prominent nose screened from scorching sun by a metal shield, he meets me on a tumescent plot of land just outside town. I shake his dirt-grimed hand and ask if he’s been adding some extra rooms. He examines the aforementioned mitt thoughtfully. “I did burrow out a few cupboards this morning, but it’s pretty filthy work. We’ll probably get a digger in to finish the guest bedroom,” he replies.

Guadix sits on the edge of Spain’s only desert, which is why the sun seems to have got a digger out to finish my cranium. With admirable vigour Sam lopes ahead of me down a steep path and vanishes into a grassy hillock with double-glazed windows. Quitting the Finnish sauna outside I cross the threshold behind him, plunge into a Swedish lake and come up gasping. Sam chortles like a kid enjoying his favourite party trick. “It’s 40°c out there. In here it’s a constant 18°c. These walls are two-meters thick. They provide natural insulation and keep the cave at a constant temperature.”

Sam’s Spanish wife, Maria, shows me around. Blindly I follow the little pink dress which flutters ahead of me through echoing funnels opening onto the cavernous gloom of countless underground rooms. From time, to time, Maria flicks a switch and light glints from egg-domed walls pitted with pickaxe marks. The couple’s bedchamber has a low vaulted ceiling and a four-poster bed hung with cotton drapes. I resist an urge to lay me down. It’s as peaceful as a chapel.

Back in the kitchen, Sam has set the table for tapas. Maria tell me these bite-size dishes were conceived by the army to stop soldiers getting too drunk on their nights out. Since we are in Andalusia, the region of Spain where tapas were invented, she has prepared us a selection for lunch. Snug in the couple’s burrow we sup on chilled, Gazpacho soup served with grated eggs and croutons, then help ourselves from communal plates of fluffy potato tortilla española, Almejas al Diablo (clams in a spicy tomato sauce), succulent veal pancakes known as Empanadillas de Ternera, roasted red peppers dotted with slivers of Morcilla (black pudding), strips of salty manchego cheese and Fideos a la malagueña, the local variation on seafood paella made with spaghetti, instead of rice. There’s no doubt about it: served a couple of meters below ground, it all tastes twice as nice

Between chilled sips of stone dry Fino sherry, Sam expatiates on the joys of life à la Flintstone - “Man was made to dwell in caverns. Living here has fulfilled my primitive desire to return to the womb” – whilst Maria smoothes her hair and nods, understandingly.

Late in the afternoon, nine-months-heavy with excellent food, we quit our cool cocoon for a post-prandial stroll. The heat is still fierce, so it’s a relief to dive into one of the whitewashed alleys leading to Guadix’s barrio troglodyte. We emerge on a hillock planted with pungent basil, dusty leeks and a chimney pot. “Just as it should be: one man’s roof is another man’s garden,” says Sam. We are surrounded by these hillocks. They stretch as far as the eye can see. Sam tells me that the hills and hamlets around Guadix, and nearby Benalu de Guadix, are riddled with grottoes. He says there are cave houses, dug out of soft volcanic ash, on The Canary islands, close to the west coast of Africa, too.

We wander up and down for hours, hopping on and off these inhabited bulges, savouring the strange sensation of leapfrogging over other people’s lives.

Sunset is trickling raspberry sauce over the silvered-headed Sierras, when I bid farewell to my hosts. I can’t say they’ve convinced me to take up residence in a grotto, but I’ve certainly had a good day out. As a parting shot I tell Sam he should invest in a bearskin.

“They’d never find a bear big enough to cover me,” he says, beating his manly chest.

Getting there
Since April 2005 there are direct flights from the UK, to Granada. From Granada take the A92 straight to Guadix.

For flight info call: Airport code GRX, Ctra. De Malaga, S/N, Santa Fé 18329, Granada ; Tel: (34) 95 824 52 00

When to go
This part of southern Spain has a sub-desert climate, so it’s best to travel in the cooler months, from October to May.

Where to eat in a grotto
The region’s most celebrated cave restaurant is La Chumbera, located in Granada’s colourful Sacromonte gypsy district. House specialities include homebred pork flavoured with wild thyme and deliciously moist Morcilla.
La Chumbera, Camino del Sacromonte 107, Granada ; tel: +34 958 215 647 Where can I stay in a cave?
For the ultimate and original cave experience try the Al jatib cave hotel, near Baza. There are fabulous views over the desert-like Baza countryside and each self-catering cave house is tastefully kitted out with eucalyptus wood beams and alcove beds, as well as eminently practical touches like a dishwasher and fridge. Prices from 63 euros for a five person cave. Cuevas Al Jatib, Arroyo Curcal 18800 Baza; tel: +34 958 342 248 www.aljatib.com

Also highly recommended: Casas Cuevas, Galera; tel: +34 958 73 90 68 The Cave Museum
Guadix’s cave museum is small, but packed with fascinating artefacts buried far from the light of day.

The Cave Museum - Plaza de la Ermita Nueva S/n, Guadix. Find out more
Guadix tourist office : Avenida Mariana Pineda, s/n - 18500 Guadix (Granada) ; Tel.+34 958662665. www.andalucia.org

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