The great outdoors really is great – wherever you live

Rab makes a vow to get out and about more often in 2018 (by the way, he wants you to do likewise) and isn’t deterred in the slightest by the fact that it won’t always be in stunning Skye

H ere’s what’s going to happen in 2018: I’m going to spend more time ootside the hoose. You too, if you’re able and I’ve anything to do with it.

I know that it sounds like I’m always stravaiging higher and yon, on the suburban hill or along the pebbly beach in Skye, but the truth is that, like anyone else in the workaday world, I am tied to my desk much of the time.

Sometimes, indeed, I have to force myself out. The lazy old brain, which doesn’t want us to do anything, comes up with umpteen excuses: “Where are you going to go? Up the hill? Again? Boring! Round the suburb? To the library? Aw, haud me back. The excitement is unbearable.”

There’s some truth in all of that, but I never got where I am today by using my brain. Besides, you rarely regret going oot.

Even this afternoon, a couple of hours before darkness fell, I decided to tackle one or two tasks in the garden, and my soul did backflips of happiness. It’s good to work in the fresh air and even better when you stop to admire the setting sun or to listen to the birds singing.

One of the best things about my friends’ house in Skye is that it has a huge panoramic window so you can see what’s going on outside. You pull back a section of it and, hey presto, you’re oot and inhaling the mountainous ozone.

I suppose the only trouble was that I found it hard to get any work done as, every 15 minutes, I’d poke my heid – and indeed the rest of me – oot, usually to take a picture of yet another amazing sky or a weird pattern in the tides or a flight of geese (always too quick for me).

Don’t me wrong: I like sitting down indoors. In my teens, when I worked as a garden labourer, there was nothing I wanted more in winter than a job in a warm, cosy office.

Even in summer, sitting doon is pretty hard to beat as hobbies go. But scientists tell us now that too much of it will send us to an early grave. And when Sunset at Sligachan Old Bridge, Skye. Picture: Getty Images. do we want to go to our graves, readers? Correct: not right away, thank you.

Of course, it helps if you’ve got somewhere pleasant outside to go. It’s the best thing about the place in Skye. The shoreline and vistas right outside the door are so fantastic that you feel it’s a crime to stay in, even if the weather is inclement.

The suburb, I must say, doesn’t quite match up. It even feels a bit claustrophobic and, though I have looked under cars and behind garden sheds, there aren’t a lot of otters.

But, hey, nowhere is really perfect. I’ve even managed fine in inner cities in the past. You can always find somewhere to walk – even if you have to walk to find it.

Older friends of mine stay fit by waddling along outdoors. Even one spin round the block is better than nothing. And, for those confined to wheelchairs, it’s grand to get pushed forth, or even just to sit outside and breathe.

Right, enough talking from a sedentary position. Ah’m oot o’ here. Have a good one, folks.