Scotland

Ardnamurchan. Barely populated except for the trees. Oak, birch, hazel, beech, larch. Rimmed by empty beaches of the palest sand looking west to islands sitting on a blue ocean. Rum, Eigg, Muck. Beyond them Skye, the Cuillin ridge unmistakeable against a far horizon. At Sanna Bay, with its sweeping golden strand, we sheltered below a small, cairn-topped hill where the grass falls away towards the sea and ate our lunch chased down with tea from the thermos. The islands spread themselves in front of us, smoothly sculpted by distance and light. Eyes right to the peaks of Moidart and Knoydart,...

“I don’t think I’ve ever been to Glasgow when it’s not been raining”, said my daughter on Sunday. She’s 32 and has visited the city many times since childhood. I’m sure she’s mistaken, has taken an average experience to be an absolute one, has learned the skill of hyperbole, or else been very, very unlucky. I had a sinking feeling that the many times I’d packed her off, a brave little unaccompanied minor on an early flight from London to spend half-term with my mother, were imprinted on her memory as miserable, wet episodes. “Dreich”, my mother would have said....

Scenic places and romantic names are the stuff of Skye. The Misty Isle of melancholy moods and sombre stories. In the heart of the island, the road to Elgol follows a wide, sedate valley between hills that seem to kneel in homage to the great ridge of the Cuillins up ahead. Behind these hills on the south side lie two abandoned villages, Boreraig and Suisnish. Abandoned is the wrong word. Though it feels right when you’re there. These settlements were 'cleared' in 1853 by Lord MacDonald to make way for sheep, as was the way with clearances. The guide books tell you...

Among many other extraordinary things, my chum, Hazel, is a photographer. Possessed of a new camera and burgeoning enthusiasm, she told me she prefers to focus on the world in detail rather than the big landscapes; shoot telephoto rather than wide-angle, as it were. I thought about this the other day as I embarked on one of my regular walks in Kinloch Forest. The trail runs roughly west to east along the south coast of Skye, though the angles and directions on this island are never easy to work out. Here the Sound of Sleat laps the island’s rocky shore. Supposedly,...