It's a criticism often heard of African travel programmes that they rarely feature Africans.

The camera is often far too interested in capturing the sun and the lion and the river, but not the people. Going back further, there were grumblings about paintings of the grand Scottish landscape in the 19th century. The Victorian artists wanted a romantic vision of Scotland, one which would be ruined by including bent old women in headscarves or children with runny noses. So people are too often cut out in order to force a certain image upon the viewer, whether he's in art gallery or watching a travel documentary on the sofa.

Italy Unpacked (BBC2) hardly featured any Italian people, and then only when they were engaged in something sufficiently quaint and romantic. We saw a silent cheesemaker, creating a cheese so ancient it was mentioned by Hippocrates. There was an old shepherd up on the rocky hillside and some some young Italians in local costume performing a traditional dance. But we don't really hear much from these people; they're just included to enhance the dreamy image of Italy this programme is trying to create.

But, in these cold Scottish months, we want warm, dreamy Italy. So it's not a criticism that there are few Italians in this exploration of Italy, although it may have helped dilute the laughing, chummy, loud friendship between the two presenters, Andrew Graham-Dixon and Giorgio Locatelli. The former is an English art historian and the latter an Italian chef and together they're off in a car to explore the Eastern side of Italy, focusing on its food and its art, whilst avoiding the typical tourist trail.

Their first stop is the city of Matera in Basilicata. Until the 70s, some residents were still living in caves and in houses hewn out of the grey rock. It may have once been considered dirty and primitive but these days it's a UNESCO Heritage site, with tiny dwellings cut into stone and stacked on top of another. Locatelli says these people were living vertically centuries before New York got the idea.

They climb to the top of the old town, to a church where the local women had to enter on their hands and knees and lick the floor in supplication. They would follow a 'licking channel' down the aisle with their tongues, finally arriving at the altar which holds a painting of 'The Madonna of the Water Jugs'.

To my dismay, these fascinating scenes ended and we were suddenly in a market place watching Locatelli sniff tomatoes and exclaim over cured meats. I reminded myself this was a tour of both the history and food of Italy, yet the cookery sections were relatively dull. Voluble Italian chefs are ten-a-penny on TV and I wanted to hear more about Madonna of the Water Jugs.

Before leaving Matera they presented us with a beautiful image: it was a tradition that each home would place a light in their window at dusk. As night fell, 'the whole city was a sea of light which was reflected in the starry sky above'. Yes, it was a wrench to leave such poetry to talk of tomatoes.

They moved onto Lecce where the cathedral is so intricately carved that Locatelli laughed the stone may have been soaked in milk to make it pliable. Graham-Dixon agreed the sculpture was so fine and 'seething with detail' that it looked as though it was done with a penknife.

They both narrate the programme, passing it like a hot potato between themselves. One sentence will be delivered in a posh English accent and the other in a bouncy, fast Italian one. And when not delivering narration, the two pals talk to one another. They'll gather underneath an old fresco, or at the market stall, and chatter, but never to the camera, and never to you. The feeling, not unpleasant, is that you're tagging along behind two loud, and incredibly knowledgeable, tourists. I just wish they'd put the tomatoes down and talk to some Italians.