I’ll never forget the drive up to our holiday cottage in Perthshire – a proper comedy of errors that had us laughing through gritted teeth. We’d set off from Glasgow full of beans, sandwiches packed and the sat-nav primed, but about halfway through, the heavens opened. Torrential rain turned the A9 into a sloshy nightmare, and then, just as we veered off towards Comrie, the windscreen wipers gave up the ghost. There I was, leaning forward like an old man peering at a menu, squinting through the blur while my mate Dave yelled directions from his phone. “Left! No, your other left!” We missed the turn for Glen Lednock twice, ending up in a muddy layby with sheep staring at us like we were eejits. By the time we finally spotted the cottage sign, we were soaked, windswept, and questioning our life choices – but honestly, that anticipation had been building all week, and it made the arrival all the sweeter.

Pulling up to this tucked-away period cottage amid the rugged beauty of Glen Lednock felt like stepping into a proper Highland hug. It’s spacious enough for our group of six – families or mates would love it – with that cosy, characterful vibe that screams “kick back and forget the world.” First impressions? Blown away. The glen unfolded around us like a postcard: misty hills rolling out, the shimmer of Loch Lednock just a short stroll away, and peace so thick you could cut it with a knife. We dumped the bags, brewed a cuppa, and within minutes were out exploring, the rain forgotten.

Glen Lednock’s a walker’s dream, and we wasted no time. A gentle path led us to the dramatic Deil’s Cauldron Waterfall – roaring like it had a grudge – and on to the Melville Monument, where the views stopped us in our tracks. Breathtaking doesn’t cover it; you feel tiny in the best way. Kept an eye out for red squirrels darting through the woods (spotted a few, cheeky wee things) and deer grazing on the moorland. Birds of prey were soaring overhead too – we reckoned we saw a peregrine, maybe even a merlin, though I’m no expert. The other direction took us through peaceful woodlands, perfect for a mooch without overdoing it. Ben Chonzie loomed temptingly for the adventurous sorts, but we saved that for another day.

Three miles down the road, Comrie’s this picture-postcard village that’s got everything without the crowds. We wandered into local cafes for scones still warm from the oven, grabbed treats from the butcher and indie shops, then poked around the Earthquake House – fascinating bit of history, that. Auchingarrich Wildlife Park was a hit with the kids in our group, and we eyed up Cultybraggan POW Camp for a history fix. Golfers among us fancied the local courses, and Comrie Croft tempted the mountain bikers. No need to venture far – Loch Earn’s paddleboarding was calling, but we kept it local.

Looking back, that chaotic arrival was the perfect icebreaker, reminding me to loosen up and embrace the mishaps. Perthshire’s magic snuck up on us, turning a soggy start into the best few days. If you’re after a Highland base that feels like home, this glen’s got it in spades. Can’t wait to go back.