I’ll never forget the drive up to Inverness – rain lashing the windscreen like it had a personal grudge, and then, just past the A9 junction, the sat-nav decided to throw a wobbly and sent us on a merry detour through some back lane that looked more like a sheep track. We were both knackered from the early start, me nursing a lukewarm coffee, and my other half muttering about why we didn’t just fly. But as we finally rolled into the heart of the city, the clouds parted just enough to reveal the River Ness sparkling below, and suddenly it all felt worth it. That buzz of arrival anticipation hit me – we’d made it to our little Highland hideaway.

Pulling up was a dream; roadside parking right outside, no faffing about with permits or hiking bags uphill. It’s a welcoming duplex apartment smack in the centre, cosy and unpretentious, with that lived-in Scottish charm that makes you kick off your shoes the second you’re through the door. Stepping inside, the spacious living/dining room opened up like an embrace – Smart TV humming away, squishy seating for the five of us (though it was just me and her this time), perfect for sprawling out with a cuppa. First impressions? Spot on. It felt like home, but better, with the murmur of the river just a stone’s throw away.

We’d planned this getaway to Loch Ness not for monster hunts or epic hikes – nah, our mission was pure, unadulterated doing sod all. And boy, did we nail it. Mornings started lazy: I’d potter down to the town centre on foot (it’s literally minutes away), grab fresh scones from a bakery, and we’d retreat to the garden out back. It’s a proper suntrap when the weather plays ball, tucked away for peace, with birdsong and the faint ripple of the Caledonian Canal nearby. We’d lounge there for hours, me with a dog-eared paperback – some cracking crime thriller I’d been saving – while she flicked through magazines, both of us ignoring the world. No schedules, no rush; just the joy of slowing right down.

Afternoons blurred into riverside ambles along the Ness, those SSSI stretches where the water’s so clear you half-expect a salmon to leap up and say hello. We’d dip into a pub for a pint of local ale, then back for naps on the sofa, telly on low for background noise. Evenings? Cosy nights in, cooking simple suppers – pasta one night, fish and chips the next – sprawled in that big living room, laughing over nothing. One evening, watching the sunset gild the Beauly Firth from the window, I had this gentle moment of self-reflection: when did life get so frantic? Here, in this unassuming spot, time stretched out like elastic. No need for Cairngorms adventures (though they’re a short drive if you fancy); the real magic was in the stillness.

It was one of those holidays that recharges you without you even trying. We left feeling lighter, promising ourselves more of the same. If you’re after Highland bliss without the hustle, this is your spot – pure, lazy perfection.