We have had our sights set on Scotland for many years, personally and professioanlly.

I had only ever travelled as far as Edinburgh before, so when I heard about a place deep within the Cairngorms,where rivers run wild, mountains rise high, and lochs appear every few miles, I knew I had to go.

The drive north from Stirling felt like a journey into something vast and ancient.

As the light faded, the landscape became more dramatic. Mountains towered around us, rivers ran alongside the road, and the sky slowly filled with stars. There was a sense of scale, of something greater than ourselves.

By the time we arrived in the Dell of Abernethy, the crunch of gravel beneath the tyres confirmed we had reached somewhere special.

A collection of cottages dating back to the 1780s welcomed us in.

It was quiet. Still. Peaceful.

We settled into our warm cottage and, after a long journey, fell into a deep and restorative sleep.

The following morning, we woke with the sunrise.

Ancient trees framed the garden, and the call of a woodpecker drew us outside. We sat quietly, watching, noticing, taking in the subtle details of the landscape—learning to recognise trees from their bare branches, allowing ourselves to simply observe.

With the day ahead of us, we moved quickly into our first run through the forest, orientating ourselves along the river and exploring the nearby village and nature reserve. The air was crisp, fresh, and deeply invigorating.

Later, we met Alice, who has lived in the area for many years and knows the landscape intimately. We are hoping to collaborate with her in 2027, as this journey was part of a wider exploration of what a retreat here could become.

She guided us to a beautiful loch, surrounded by woodland, vast, open, and still.

The water was cold, but the shared experience made it feel inviting. Conversations, laughter, and that familiar post-swim clarity created a sense of connection and ease.

Refreshed, we continued on to explore potential venues. And then, we found it.

An old 10-bedroom house, set in an elevated position above the banks of the River Spey. A place with history, warmth, and character. Once a family home, now a large and welcoming residence, it carries a sense of belonging.

Inside, a large dining table set for twenty, an AGA in the kitchen, and spaces that feel both lived-in and loved. Outside, expansive lawns and a riverside sauna, simple, grounding, and beautifully placed within the landscape.

It felt like stepping back in time, in the most comforting way.

It may not have every modern luxury, but it holds something far more valuable: character, atmosphere, and a feeling that stays with you.

Nearby, we discovered another loch, complete with a castle ruin. Of course, we returned to the water. Although we didn’t quite make it to the castle, the setting alone was breathtaking, snow-capped mountains in the distance, pine trees lining the shore, and a peaceful walking route encircling the loch.

We were beginning to understand the depth of this place.

There is something about Scotland that invites you to slow down, to notice more, to feel more. I found myself reflecting on how important it is to protect landscapes like this, so rich, so expansive, so full of life.

A stop at a local farm shop provided us with fresh provisions, and we returned to the cottage to light fires, share food, and unwind. There was a sense of contentment in simply being.

The second day brought a slower rhythm.

We spent much of our time observing the wildlife around us. The woodpecker returned, alongside a beautiful red squirrel, an unexpected and memorable moment.

Speaking with Polly, the owner, we learned more about the land and its future. Rewilding is very much part of this area, and you can feel it. The surrounding land has been purchased by the RSPB, ensuring that it will continue to grow wilder, richer, and more protected over time.

Later, we visited Sauna Cairngorms on Loch Alvie. The wind had picked up, the water rippled, and the sauna sat facing the setting sun. We shared the space with others, stories, laughter, and a sense of shared experience, surrounded by nature.

It made me reflect on how environments like this shape the way we live.

How we adapt. How we move. How we grow. There is a beauty in that.

And perhaps one of the greatest gifts of all is the ability to slow down, to notice, and to truly see what is around us.

As we sat quietly, watching the array of birds at the feeder, I found myself completely absorbed in the moment. It is in these pauses that something shifts.

Scotland has left a lasting impression.

And I cannot wait to return in 2027, to share this experience with some of you.

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