I’ll never forget the drive up to our holiday cottage in Perthshire – a proper Scottish adventure that started with a comedy of errors. We’d piled into the car in Edinburgh, bellies full of greasy breakfast rolls, buzzing with excitement about Loch Tay’s sparkling shores. But halfway through the winding roads near Crieff, the sat-nav decided to throw a wobbly and sent us down a single-track lane that looked more like a sheep’s personal runway. We ended up reversing for what felt like miles past a farmer who gave us a cheery wave and a look that said, “City folk, eh?” Laughing it off, we finally spotted the loch glinting in the distance, and my heart did a little flip – this was going to be magic.

Pulling up to the cottage along the northern shore, I was chuffed to bits. It’s this light, stylishly updated gem, perfect for our group of six – families or mates would love it here, tucked away in Fearnan with that fresh, relaxing vibe. Ample space inside, and right on the water’s edge for peeking at the hills. First impressions? Spot on. We dumped the bags and cracked open a bottle of fizz on the deck, watching the sun dance off Loch Tay. But let’s be honest, the real star of our stay was the food – or should I say, our heroic attempts at it.

Right from the off, we hit the road to Kenmore, just four miles away, that postcard-pretty village at the loch’s end. Popped into their wee deli for smoked salmon straight from the Tay, crusty artisan bread, and local cheeses that could make you weep. Back at the cottage, I fancied myself a master chef, rustling up a salmon feast with tatties and a creamy mustard sauce. Disaster struck when I overdid the whisky in the reduction – tasted like rocket fuel! We howled with laughter, scraping it into the bin and ordering fish and chips from the pub instead. Proper crispy batter, mushy peas on the side – bliss.

Next day, we biked the easy trails to the Scottish Crannog Centre, two and a half miles off, stomachs rumbling. Grabbed picnic supplies from a Fearnan farm shop en route: venison sausages, heather honey, and fresh scones with clotted cream. Picnicked by the loch, devouring it all while dodging cheeky midges. Evenings were pub central – Kenmore’s Mains of Taymouth Country House Hotel bar became our haunt. Pint of local ale, then platters of haggis bonbons and sticky toffee pudding that stuck to our ribs (and souls). One night, I tried my hand at a full Scottish breakfast: lorne sausage, black pudding, and tattie scones sizzling in the cottage kitchen. Came out a treat, surprisingly – even the kids wolfed it down.

Markets were a highlight too. Nipped to the one in nearby Killin (just a hop away), loading up on Perthshire strawberries, homemade fudge, and organic veg. I got ambitious with a venison stew, slow-cooked with juniper berries from a lochside forage (okay, bought from the deli). Turned out hearty and warming, perfect after a splash in the water – canoeing off the shore left us ravenous.

Reflecting on it now, amid the giggles over my culinary cock-ups, this trip was a gentle nudge: sometimes the best holidays are less about perfection and more about shared plates, daft mishaps, and that cosy glow of full bellies by the fire. If you’re after a Perthshire escape where food fuels the fun, this lochside hideaway’s your spot. We’re already plotting a return for more feasts.