There’s nothing quite like a holiday in the Western Isles

So, back from the Scottish holibags, full of renewed enthusiasm about this beautiful country of ours and equally full of a renewed belief that whatever is happening on the world stage, the biggest threat to the future of humankind is midges.

There are several things you experience on a break in the Western Isles you find nowhere else in the world: The sky changing colour as you watch, while marvelling it was raining horizontally five minutes ago and is now blazing sunshine; that particular aroma of fried food that hits you as you board a ferry; the entire population of the English Home Counties has moved up to run shops, cafes, bars and restaurants.

There were also important lessons to be learned. When your brother says: “It’s only a seven-mile round walk” just say “OK, have fun.” Do not say: “Hold on, I’ll just get my boots”. Nothing tastes better than a picnic eaten from under a raincoat hood on a rug on a white sandy beach.

It was quite sad for us that The Teenager had no memories of holidays in the same spot with her cousins when she was The Toddler, but heartening she was using her phone this time to film the views, rather than just messaging friends.

It is always gratifying to be out of step with the rest of the UK, as we proved on the day we sheltered from thunderstorms and biblical rain in Tobermory, while marvelling at reports of heatwaves across Britain.

As is traditional with a Penman family holiday, the electricity then all went off. This prompted anguished cries: “Oh my actual god! The wi-fi!” (The Teenager) and “Aaaarghh! The fridge! The prosecco!” (Me).

Luckily, we had a log fire, red wine and an assortment of crisps to see us through. Bear Grylls would have been proud.