I’ll never forget the drive up to Foyers from Inverness – we’d rented a car at the airport, buzzing with that holiday excitement, kids in the back seat already fighting over the crisps. About halfway, just past Drumnadrochit, we hit a massive downpour, the kind that turns Highland roads into rivers. I pulled over sharpish when the wipers couldn’t keep up, and little Jamie spilled his juice all over the map (yes, we still use one). Cue parental panic and a soggy detour through some back lane, but honestly, it just added to the adventure. By the time we crested the hill into Foyers, the rain had cleared, revealing this jaw-dropping vista of Loch Ness stretching out below. My heart skipped – we’d made it, and it looked even better than the photos.

Pulling up to our rural terraced cottage apartment, I was grinning like an idiot. Tucked into the hillside overlooking that dramatic landscape, it screamed perfect romantic country escape – wait, no, scrap that, it was spot-on for our little family chaos crew. The front had this enclosed garden with decking and chairs, prime for al fresco dinners with a view that made you forget the world. We tumbled inside, bags everywhere, and straight away it felt like home. French doors led to a cosy sitting room with a log burner that promised epic evenings, and the kitchen? Sleek appliances and a dining spot for four – ideal for our slapdash family meals.

First morning, we cracked open the windows to that fresh Highland air and wandered down to the lochside, just a short stroll away. The kids splashed about at the pebbly shore near Foyers Bay, building lopsided castles while I sipped coffee, pretending I wasn’t secretly thrilled to be off the emails. Lunch was a picnic of cheese rolls and apples right there in the garden, watching sheep amble by – pure bliss, even when toddler Ellie decided to “feed” the grass to the dog we didn’t have.

Afternoons blurred into lazy rambles along the old paths around the village, spotting red squirrels darting through the trees and breathing in that piney scent. One evening, we lit the log burner (after a hilarious faff with the matches – who knew kindling was an art?), roasted marshmallows, and played board games till the kids conked out. That’s when I had my quiet moment, staring at the flickering flames, thinking how these simple bits – the mud on the boots, the shared laughs over burnt toast – are what recharge you more than any fancy spa.

Of course, cottage life isn’t all Instagram-perfect. The boiler groaned like an old man one night, and we had a full-on hunt for the spare blankets, tripping over toys in the dark. But that’s the charm, isn’t it? No schedules, just us, the hills, and the loch’s moody magic. A few days in, I caught myself wondering why we don’t do this more often – life’s too short for anything but these relaxed, messy Highland escapes. If you’re after a family bolt-hole that feels like a warm hug from Scotland itself, hunt one down near Foyers. We’re already plotting our return.