As leaders of some of Europe’s most popular holiday destinations ponder recent anti-tourism protests, they should perhaps take inspiration from the mayor of Civita di Bagnoregio, a hamlet perched on a plateau of volcanic rock surrounded by steep ravines in Italy’s Lazio region.

Francesco Bigiotti, who also manages the main town of Bagnoregio, has rushed in where other mayors fear to tread – anyone wanting to cross the footbridge to visit his medieval village must pay.

Civita, a tiny settlement about 74 miles north of Rome, founded by the Etruscans more than 2,500 years ago, is the only town in Italy to charge an entrance fee. A €1.50 toll was introduced in 2013 and increased at the beginning of August. Visitors are now required to pay €3 on weekdays and €5 on Sundays or public holidays. For a few euros more they can get a private tour of the village – home to a year-round population of just 10 people – or a bruschetta and a glass of wine.

Authorities in overcrowded Venice, where in July an estimated 2,000 protesters marched against mass tourism, have long contemplated charging people to see one of their most prized assets, St Mark’s Square, but the idea has always proved too contentious.

Bigiotti enthuses about his hamlet’s initiative, which has coincided with a surge in visitors – Civita is forecast to attract 850,000 people this year, compared to 40,000 in 2010.

“The ticket price has not discouraged people at all,” he told the Observer. “In fact, it has increased the quality of tourism. In some ways, it makes the site more precious. Even the tourists are more attentive, they stay for longer and are more respectful.”

While the ticketing system allows Bigiotti to monitor the flow of tourists, it also enabled him to pull off another significant feat: he has abolished communal taxes, comparable to council tax, in both Civita and Bagnoregio, which has a population of 3,650. He also boasts of a zero unemployment rate thanks to the 400 jobs created via the 200 or so tourism-linked businesses that have sprung up in the past few years.

“Bagnoregio is the only Italian town where you no longer pay communal taxes,” he said. “We’ve been able to improve local services – the health service is better, there is transport for disabled people. We’re managing to live autonomously thanks to tourism and culture. Really, it’s a miracle.”

Indeed, a miracle of sorts has occurred. Civita became known as “the dying town” due to the forces of nature – earthquakes, landslides and floods – that have threatened its survival since the 17th century. But far from being a death knell, the label – which even features on signposts leading to the village – has proven to be a deft stroke of marketing.

A series of landslides in 2014 and 2015 saw some of its medieval properties plummet into the ravine when the sides of the volcanic outcrop gave way. Geologists have described it as melting like an ice cream. However, the disaster encouraged a group of Italy’s cultural heavyweights, including Oscar-winning composer Ennio Morricone and director Bernardo Bertolucci, to back a petition calling for Civita to be given world heritage status by Unesco. The regional government of Lazio pledged more investment to preserve what was becoming increasingly recognised as a cultural and historical gem, and a bid for the site to be listed was submitted in March this year.

Up to 850,000 tourists are expected to visit Civita di Bagnoregio this year. Photograph: Alamy Stock Photo

Some of the tourists’ entrance fee also goes towards preserving Civita’s fragile beauty, Bigiotti said. But not everyone is happy to pay for the privilege. A group of Italians could be heard grumbling when the Observer visited last week, before begrudgingly handing over their cash and joining the flow clambering up the sloping footbridge, which was partially blown up by the Germans during the second world war.

The town is inaccessible to vehicles apart from mopeds and a couple of tractors, used to transport construction materials and waste, or to ferry supplies for the handful of restaurants and bars. But once through its main entrance – a huge stone gateway – any irritation at having to pay quickly evaporates as visitors are taken back to the middle ages.

The main piazza contains a bell tower and a 13th-century church. The town’s few narrow streets, flanked by stone houses, are meticulously maintained. There are a couple of B&Bs to host those who want to stay the night, while the majority of the properties have been turned into holiday homes. There is little to do apart from gaze at Etruscan remnants, have a bite to eat or buy a souvenir.

In the 1960s and 70s there was a time when it looked as if newcomers, charmed by Civita’s fairytale scenery and isolation, might settle: Italian aristocrats snapped up the crumbling homes, helping the original owners to leave for good.

“But that ran aground because they couldn’t get the services to match the lifestyle required,” said Anthony Costa Heywood, an American architect who first visited the town in the 60s and has been among the few permanent residents since 2003. “Once they’d fixed up their houses and impressed all their friends they left. It was too much trouble to do anything here.”

With no post office, supermarket, chemist, hospital or school, the Civita of today caters to its main breadwinner: tourism. And it’s a resource Bigiotti will continue to focus on, albeit with care.

He still gets irked by words uttered in 2010 by Giulio Tremonti, then the economy minister in Silvio Berlusconi’s government. Justifying deep cuts in funding to the arts and historical sites in the midst of the financial crisis, Tremonti said: “Con la cultura non si mangia,” or “culture doesn’t feed you”.

“We proved him wrong and have done the exact opposite,” said Bigiotti. “Civita was called ‘the dying city’. Today Civita is not only alive but it’s keeping the entire area alive too.”