Adventures abound in and around the Inverawe Cottages, including fly fishing on nearby rivers

FLY f i shing is not a holiday choice usually associated with children. There is a reason for that. Four years old, after all, the age of my older son, Louis, may not be the ideal time to be introduced to a sport that involves brandishing a long rod with an easily tangled line and sharp hook capable of spearing an arm, leg or face. Nor is two years old, that of my younger, Max, the age to start hauling out your first pounder.

However, at Inverawe, north of Loch Awe in the foothills of Ben Cruachan, none of that matters. This place isn’t just about fishing. It’s a rural adventure for young and old, complete with smokehouse, museum, play area, cafe, river to throw stones into, suspension footbridge and, most important of all, forts, ropeswings, hideaways, a “goblin” tree and a “fairy” tree.

That a place designed for fishing should be so child- friendly is no surprise: the owners, Rosie and Robert Campbell- Preston, have worked at it over the years, first for their own children, then for their grandchildren.

However, fishing was what we were there for. Following our first lesson with Robert, the heat was on: who would catch that first trout?

I soon realised that one factor was hampering me: on almost every one of my outings to the ponds, I was accompanied by Louis, and often Max, while my husband was not. It seems fishing is best done in a state of tranquillity. I would be standing at the edge of the water, flicking out lines, in a mild state of panic, constantly shouting at Louis not to come too close, or to stay away from Max, for fear he might hook his brother, then jumping over every few minutes to release his fly from a weed, reed or branch.

They say that women are often better at fly fishing as they possess the pheromones to attract the fish – and if you look at the pictures that decorate the Inverawe smokehouse museum, there is plenty of evidence of that. However, I don’t think the pheromones of female anxiety are what they are talking about.

MEANWHILE, my husband was casting serenely, elegantly and on his own, but not catching anything. There were fish in the lochs. We knew that since we had watched our neighbours in the cottage next to ours haul in fish after fish. The oldest member of their party offered us our first sight of a trout being reeled in. We saw him pulling it out of the water, his pose reflecting a picture we had seen in the museum, entitled “an anxious moment”, and ran to help. It flipped across the ground and my boys watched in fascination as he knocked it over the head with his stone “priest”.

Later, we talked to our younger neighbour, as he sat at the table with his own freshly gutted fish. The family came year after year, he explained, but for the first three years he hadn’t caught a thing. I was in awe of his patience.

We came to learn that a fishing holiday might not necessarily be about catching fish, which was a good thing because we didn’t. Luckily, not catching any is no barrier to dining on them.

One of the virtues of Inverawe is that its smokehouse produces a great variety of smoked fish products, some of which is supplied to the Queen, and from the moment we arrived, the whole family was caught up in one long smoky gorge, lunch after lunch, buttering slices of toast, squeezing lemons and fighting over last scraps of salmon.

There is always a touch of serendipity to a good holiday, which makes the magic. For us, it was the nature trail. Walking along it on our first evening, watching out for otters, which we had heard lived in the burn up from the Lily Loch, and the osprey, which was said to often fly down towards the river, we saw a carefully etched sign saying “Louis’s hideaway”.

I was hoping Max wouldn’t feel any dimunition of his own specialness when, rounding a corner, we spotted a further sign: “Max’s fort”. It seemed the Campbell-Prestons had two grandsons named Louis and Max, for whom they had created this trail.

But that didn’t matter: the signs made my boys feel that they belonged. But it didn’t really require them to make them feel that way. They already had a sense this was a place designed not just for seasoned fly fishers, but for goblins, fairies and under-fives. Accommodation starts at £65 for a three-night break. Phone 01866 822777/822542 or visit www. inverawe-cottages.co.uk The trout fishing season starts on March 15