LET me confess an addiction – to ‘slow television’. I’ve watched all three BBC4 programmes in this novel format – journeys filmed in real time, with no commentary, no music, just the natural sounds. Wonderful, true balm for the spirit, a perfect antidote to modern-day stress.

Thus I’ve journeyed along the Kennet and Avon canal, with just the swish of water as the main accompaniment, occasionally mingled with birdsong or a greeting called from bank to barge, or vice versa. And I’ve shared a two-hour sled ride, to deliver post and parcels in northern Norway. When darkness arrived on the latter journey, the sled leader, guiding the reindeer on foot, carried a tarry torch, which cast a flickering glow on the frozen waste.

The third ‘slow TV’ journey was much nearer home – the Yorkshire Dales. Screened last Bank Holiday it turned out to be another beauty. Early misgivings there might be too much tarmac as the Northern Dalesman bus – service 830 - set off on its once-weekly journey from Richmond to Ingleton were soon dispelled. Filmed at the height of spring, the Dales looked glorious, even better than when showcased on the Tour-de-France. The gentle ambience, the sound of the bus just a muted purr, gave it a further edge.

Southerners, Londoners especially, must have been open-mouthed. If the bus met more than 30 cars coming the other way I should be surprised. Of course some might have slipped by as the camera scanned the surrounding landscape. But several overhead shots showed the bus alone on long stretches of road, including the Buttertubs Pass.

Yes, absolutely marvellous. Any housebound lover of the Dales could watch this over and over again – and be there. But I will enter two caveats.

Over-concerned with geology and lead mining, the on-screen nuggets of information too often missed the spot. What’s all that white blossom? Hawthorn. And the yellow carpet of many dales fields? Buttercups. Some viewers wouldn’t know. The bus’s passage from Swaledale to Wensleydale should have been noted and their rivers identified. At Reeth it might (memorably) have been said that its former local bobby patrolled the largest beat in England.

Still, the programme was lovely. But – the other caveat - it could be seized upon as evidence against bus subsidies. About 20 people boarded at Richmond. They were joined by two women at Grinton, the first stop. At nearby Reeth two passengers left but no-one got on. Two more disembarked at Gunnerside and three at Muker – but still no-one boarded. Three left at the Buttertubs, four at Hawes and the remainder at Ribblehead. No-one had boarded the bus, a local service, after Grinton.

Though Ingleton had been named at the outset as the destination, the TV programme didn’t follow it there – probably because the bus was empty. Most passengers were walkers. Can a subsidised 40-mile bus service – 80 miles there and back – be justified for a handful of hikers? As a holder, user and defender of the prized bus pass I’m loathe to say it, but there needs to be some criteria, including use by locals, for a bus subsidy. The Northern Dalesman might not make the cut. But its beauty is now captured for all to see. Catch it on iPlayer.