I’ll never forget the drive up to Corpach – that’s just three miles from Fort William, mind – because it was one of those classic Scottish holidays where everything starts with a comedy of errors. We’d piled into the car in the pouring rain, me navigating with my phone that kept losing signal in the most dramatic Highland passes, and my mate Dave behind the wheel, swearing under his breath every time a sheep decided to photobomb the road. Then, just as we crested the hill towards Glencoe, the satnav cheerfully announced we’d missed a turn, and we ended up doing a full loop through some narrow lanes that felt more like sheep tracks. By the time we spotted the cluster of cottages, we were knackered, covered in crisps from a midges-induced snack frenzy, and I’d somehow spilled coffee all over the passenger seat. Arrival anticipation? Mate, I was just praying the key would be in the lock.

But oh, what a payoff. Pulling up to this neat little detached timber cottage – one of five dotted around a peaceful garden that looked like it’d been nicked from a fairy tale – my heart did a little flip. It’s single-storey, all cosy and inviting, with that perfect Highland vibe that screams “relax now, you daft southerner.” We tumbled out, grabbed our bags, and there it was: open-plan living area with a massive corner sofa begging for a collapse, double doors flung wide to the shared lawned garden, and out front, a cracking decked seating area. I could already picture us there with a cuppa, watching the mist roll off the hills. First impressions? Bloody brilliant – it felt like home the second we stepped in, tidy as you like with all the facilities you need for a proper getaway.

We dumped our stuff and headed straight out to shake off the journey chaos. A quick wander down to the nearby shores of Loch Linnhe – it’s spitting distance from the cottage – had us gawping at the water lapping against the pebbles, seals popping up like nosy neighbours. The air was that crisp, piney Highland scent that hits you right in the soul. Later, we fired up the barbecue on the deck (weather gods finally smiling), cracking open some local brews while the sun dipped behind Ben Nevis. Dave, still grumbling about the drive, admitted it was worth every wrong turn.

Truth be told, sitting there that first evening, feet up on the deck, I had a proper moment of self-reflection. Life back home’s all rush and screens, innit? Here, in this quiet spot perfect for families or mates, it was like the world slowed down. No signal mishaps could ruin that. We spent the next days pottering to Glencoe’s dramatic valleys – those towering peaks you’ve seen in every film – hiking easy trails with views that make your jaw drop, and nipping into Fort William for fish and chips that tasted like heaven after the fresh air. Even managed a boat trip on the loch, spotting otters who looked way more sorted than we did on arrival.

If you’re after a base for the West Highlands’ stunners, this corner of Corpach is gold. Messy start and all, it was the holiday that reminded me why I love getting away – chaos included. Can’t wait to go back.