I’ll never forget the drive up to Orkney this summer – or rather, the ferry crossing, because who needs a straightforward journey when you can add a bit of drama? We’d splurged on a week in a cracking single-storey cottage just outside Stromness, and I was buzzing with anticipation as we boarded the NorthLink ferry from Scrabster. Picture this: endless blue skies, the Pentland Firth sparkling like it was showing off. But no, halfway across, the wind whipped up a proper squall, and our packed lunch went flying across the deck. Soggy sandwiches everywhere – I looked like a right numpty chasing them while everyone else huddled inside with their coffees. Still, we made it to Stromness harbour in one piece, and as we trundled along the single-track roads towards the cottage, the summer sun broke through, turning the landscape into this golden haze. First impressions? Blimey, it was love at first sight.

Pulling up to the property, with its superb rural spot so close to town yet feeling miles from anywhere, I was grinning like an idiot. Ample parking and a garage sorted the car, and stepping into that welcoming sitting room felt like sinking into a hug – all cosy for gathering round the telly or just chilling. But oh, the gardens! In high summer, they were a riot of wildflowers and lush green, with the patio furniture begging us to plonk down and gaze across to the Bay of Ireland. Those views were sublime, especially with the long evenings stretching out till nearly midnight. We’d crack open a bottle of local Orkney beer and watch the sun dip low, painting the water in pinks and oranges. It was pure magic, the kind of light you only get up here in midsummer.

The season shaped everything, really. Those endless days meant we could squeeze in walks to the stunning Ness of Brodgar just a couple of miles away – ancient stones glowing under that soft northern sun, with barely a cloud to spoil it. We wandered the coastal paths near Birsay, spotting seals basking on the rocks, their shiny coats picking up the golden hour shimmer. Back at the cottage, barbecues on the patio became our ritual; the warm breeze carrying the scent of mackerel fresh from Stromness pier. One evening, we even caught the tail end of the St Magnus Festival echoes drifting over – fiddles and voices in the twilight, making it feel like Orkney itself was putting on a show.

Of course, summer’s not all idyllic; the midges descended one afternoon like tiny dive-bombers, forcing us indoors for a laughably frantic game of cards. I sat there, smidge-smeared and reflective, thinking how this place strips you back. No city rush, just the rhythm of tides and those huge skies. It made me realise how often I forget to slow down – holidays like this are a gentle nudge. We packed up reluctantly, the gardens still buzzing with bees, already plotting a return for those midnight sun vibes. If you’re after a proper escape, this corner of Orkney in summer is unbeatable.