The hotel: we arrived at the Oppoca, in French Basque country, a couple of days after the wedding of the two young owners. They were beaming. We were impressed. If anybody had shown up at our house two days after our wedding, they’d have been wading through leftover bodies, shredded veils and half-empty glasses.

How different from the newly married life of Patxi and Marilyn Massonde. They didn’t look at all as though they hadn’t slept for 48 hours. The flowers were fresh. The place was spotless. “Extraterrestrials,” whispered my wife, awestruck.

Basques take hearth and home very seriously, as is palpable immediately on arrival in a village such as Ainhoa, enfolded into the foothills of the Pyrenees, a spit from Spain.

Satisfyingly substantial houses — all white, trimmed with red or green woodwork — have sent generations of family members out to the fields, over the mountains for contraband or off to the Americas. They remain the source of Basque life, expecting respect and promising warmth in return.

That’s how it is at the Oppoca. Standing confidently on the little main street, the hotel is a continuation of the Massonde family home by slightly more formal means. The young couple run it with Patxi’s parents, whose catering roots here go back to the last ice age.

Public areas downstairs have a big farmhouse feel (heavy beams, ironwork, hanging copper), qualified by the effortless taste that typifies smart French women (flowers, interesting fabrics, much polished wood). Out the back, a garden cedes to farmland, where a foal was experimenting with its new legs.

Beyond, soft-sided hills, smudged with sheep, rise to proper Pyrenees. Back inside, we found we no longer remembered who Alistair Darling was. Nor did we have to pay for this by immersion in the extremes of Basque folklore — though Basque to its foundations, the Oppoca is also worldly-wise. We talked of foie gras, Paris and weddings. Two nights were nowhere near enough.

The rooms: the constant worry about French rustic bedrooms is that they won’t have been aired since the vigil for Grandad. Well ahead of this game, the Oppoca people last year restructured their entire upstairs. It’s now light, airy and with new bedrooms big enough for anything you might care to do in a bedroom — up to, but not including, line dancing.

The smart Frenchwoman’s influence, mentioned above, has ensured class textiles, more flowers, and those muted grey and beige tones now becoming de rigueur. They work well with wooden beams and flooring. The bathroom cleans you up in contemporary fashion and, from the balcony, the balance between man and grand-scale nature is so fine that one expects God to appear, briefly, booming:

“How about that, then?”

The food: we sat by a bucolic mural that was not only terrible, but also superfluous. The real thing was, after all, just beyond the picture windows. I mention this only because everything else was damned near perfect. The dining room was simple, the service sharp and smiling.

Father and son work together in the kitchen, dad ensuring copious Basque traditions don’t slip away, son giving them a light, inventive twist. I don’t expect to have a better starter this year than carpaccio of monkfish with foie gras and red cabbage.

Dishes such as this have seen Patxi named one of the best young chefs in southwest France for 2009. He should shortly be climbing the Michelin ladder. He’ll go faster if he paints over that mural.

The surroundings: the Atlantic coast of cliffs, vast sands and rollers is but 20 minutes from Ainhoa. Nearer still, one may climb the spectacular Rhune hill on a rickrack railroad train, my preferred method of mountaineering.

Country lanes snake from villages to other hills, then chuck you up real mountains where, in the past, shepherds regularly saw visions of the Virgin Mary —because, at these altitudes, there’s hardly anyone else to see.

It’s all glorious, and you will be tempted to wonder aloud why Basque separatists complain so much. Don’t. It gets you nowhere. Instead, take a hike or walk from Ainhoa. This is infinitely better for the health.

La Maison Oppoca, in Ainhoa (00 33 5 59 29 90 72, oppoca.com), has doubles from £65, room-only.

Fly to Biarritz with Ryanair (0871 246 0000, ryanair.com), from Stansted, Birmingham or Dublin; or EasyJet (easyjet.com) from Gatwick or Bristol. The airport is 25 minutes’ drive from Ainhoa; expect to pay about £80 return for taxis. Car hire starts at £80 for three days with Car Hire 3000 (0800 358 7707, carhire3000.com) or Holiday Autos (0871 472 5229, holidayautos.co.uk)

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