Wild Ireland, ITV

“A place of ravishing beauty that would completely stop you in your tracks.” So said Christine Bleakley as she introduced the first episode of this six-part series, during which she travels along the Wild Atlantic Way on Ireland's west coast, from County Donegal in the north to County Cork in the south, 15,000 miles of rugged coastline formed over millions of years by the ravages of the Atlantic Ocean.

The presenter was speaking about Malin Head, Ireland's most northerly point, but she could have been talking about almost any part of the island of Ireland. It's a tiny country but boy does it punch above its weight in ravishing beauty terms – admittedly, as the London-born daughter of Irish parents, I'm a wee bit biased, but honestly the place still has the capacity to take my breath away after many, many visits over the years.

Bleakley was born in County Down, but spent many summer holidays in County Donegal, and she was a pleasant guide to this stunningly beautiful region. Most people would be content just to take in the views from a safe vantage point, but the ever-game Bleakley, despite her fear of heights, has taken the “wild” literally, and throws herself into various physical challenges over the series. And either she's a masochist or her producer is a sadist, because in last night's first half-hour segment she was required not only to trek to Ireland's highest coastal point, with a sheer drop to the freezing ocean below if she missed her step, but also to take part in the modern sport of coasteering – a combination of coastal walks, swimming and jumping off cliffs (pictured below right).

It made for some good telly, beautifully photographed, but Bleakley – plucky to the last – didn't make a fuss about it, and gamely carried on. More blessedly (perhaps because she's Irish herself), she didn't seek out Oirish characters, even if she did meet a local woman who recounted a version of how Ireland came to be named Éire. Like many a good story told in these parts, the story owed more to Ireland's rich mythology than provable fact, but it was a good yarn none the less. And it was also a delight to be reminded of the poetry in the way many Irish people use the English language in everyday situations; pointing to the sea clouds coming in as she and her guide, Paddy, were about to climb the high cliffs at Slieve League in County Donegal, he batted off her fears with, “I like to think of it as a low ceiling.”

Along the way Bleakley also tasted some smoked salmon from fish taken out of the Atlantic and smoked in the Burren in County Clare – a place of stunning geological interest, not mentioned here and an oversight necessitated by the half-hour format. Mercifully, as she was driving between locations, she didn't accompany it with a pint of the black stuff, surely the hoariest of Irish travelogue clichés (although in truth the two are a good match).

Wild Ireland is light entertainment, but Bleakley is good company and Tourism Ireland, which supported the series, will feel their money has been well spent.