The cash-strapped Irish government must be cheering from the rooftops. Monty Halls, that down-to-earth everyman who women of a certain age can’t help but adore, and who men find themselves grudgingly admiring, has arrived. (Monty Halls’ Great Irish Escape – BBC2).

Not on a white charger, but in a no-nonsense 4×4 with his snorkel mask, wetsuit, and mischievous black four-legged friend, Reuben, in tow.

Two years ago, when Monty upped sticks from the big city to give up his creature comforts in the remote Scottish coastal community of Applecross, tourism shot up by a staggering 1,000 per cent.

A year later, when he sailed out to the island of north Uist for a similar back-to-basics Hebridean adventure, the show triggered another meteoric rise in visitor numbers.

For this third series, Monty has crossed the Irish sea, headed west to Connemara, and invited us to discover how he fared while spending six months working with the Irish Whale and Dolphin Conservation Group.

Today’s breed of try-too-hard TV presenters could learn a thing or two from Monty, whose personable, natural, effervescent approach to life is the making of the show.

There’s no hint of a chip on his broad shoulders, nor any attempt to spoon-feed us with right-on messages. He goes out of his way to make sure the show is not about him, yet it is his disarming charm which gives it the X-factor.

This time, Monty returns to his first love, marine biology, and the unbridled joy he displays when photographing the local bottlenose dolphin population is infectious.

Footage of the big man feeding tame conger eels on the ocean floor like greedy labradors, getting nose-to-nose with these potential killers, was truly amazing.

It wasn’t all sugar-coated, though. An impromptu autopsy on a stranded baby whale was, quite literally, explosive – yet somehow managed to be subtly educational at the same time.

Apart from the fact he hasn’t had to rescue his temporary home from dereliction this time, Monty’s Irish abode bears a striking resemblance to the bothy he tarted up in Applecross.

And just like in that Scottish outpost, the locals adore him. The love in the room for him at the local mussel-cooking festival was quite clearly genuine. He’s the sort of bloke who makes other people feel special, without really trying.

If Ray Mears and Sir David Attenborough got their heads together to share best practice for a reality TV series, this is the sort of masterpiece you could imagine them creating.

The jaw-droppingly beautiful vistas, spectacularly rugged rocky outcrops, colourful local characters and tantalising glimpses of marine wildlife make an intoxicating mix.

The local tourist board will be rubbing its hands with glee.

In today’s increasingly suspicious and cynical world, there’s a refreshing and humble innocence about this show.

It’s little wonder that viewers want a taste of the Monty Halls lifestyle. It gives us a wanderlust; a determination to explore what’s on our doorstep, close to home.

If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it – that’s what they say. Well, Monty’s certainly found a winning formula, and this six-part series promises to be just as addictive as the previous two.

By Carl Jones