My cosy cabin fever
How a bothy deep in the forest makes for a simply enchanting escape
SWEEPING through the snowy peaks of Aberdeenshire under a brilliant blue sky, the landscape seemed almost otherworldly. At Glenshee, powdered hills glistening under winter sun made us feel we were entering a postcard from Narnia.
You can’t guarantee such conditions on every drive, but in Royal Deeside spectacular scenery is always assured.
Which was exactly what I told myself when, with some trepidation, I booked a two-night stay with Cairngorm Bothies in the Muir of Dinnet, choosing one set ‘deep in the woods’.
Traditionally used as mountain refuges, bothies are often sparse to say the least. Sheltered enough to protect you against the elements, but not typically the pinnacle of relaxation.
So as we wound our way into the Blelack Woodlands, a good few miles from the nearest town with amenities, I began a silent prayer that the hot water promised would deliver. On arrival, I was relieved to find it had been answered.
Our home for the weekend was the charming Mountaineers’ Bothy, a one-bedroom cabin which can sleep up to four.
At maximum capacity it might possibly become a little cramped, but the two of us had ample space and there would definitely be room for four-legged friends.
The bothy was equipped with practically everything you could hope for to enjoy a relaxing stay. When I remarked it would have been useful to have brought a torch, I found one helpfully placed near the door, as if by magic.
Our host, Shauna, had loaded the wood burner for us to light. It was an easy process, but in the great tradition of men and fire, my partner tended to that stove all weekend like it was a newborn and would probably have been content to stay in poking at embers for the entire trip.
But doing that would have meant missing out on some of the finest scenery in the country, not to mention the wildlife. Guests are encouraged to bring nuts and seeds for the local wildlife, and birds descended with such speed and variety I suspected they must be on the bothy’s payroll.
The next day, buoyed by the kind of sleep that comes from a night in a pitch-dark, silent forest, we set out on one of the area’s walks.
We opted for the Loch Kinord route, a flat five-mile amble around the water’s edge.
Had conditions been better, we might have gone for the nearby Ben Macdui, Scotland’s second highest munro. While remote, the bothy was only a short drive away from several towns and attractions including Balmoral and the Royal Lochnagar Distillery.
Our final day saw us check out the Burn O’Vat, formed by the melting of a glacial ice sheet.
As we looked out over our own thawing landscape, I noted with some sadness it was starting to look less like Narnia – but our trip had still left me spellbound.