On a Land Rover tour of the wildly beautiful Tulliemet in Perthshire, a strange sight: a sheep on its side, legs stiffly protruding, stomach swollen. Sandy, the octogenarian groundskeeper and our guide, slammed the brakes. Spritely as a leaping salmon, he hopped out of the vehicle. We watched as he approached the sheep, his practised hand reaching to check its pulse. “She’s not long gone,” he said, climbing back into the vehicle, chipperness undimmed by his brush with death. “I better tell the farmer.”
Moments later, we were sitting on the deck of our luxury cabin, eating a picnic of smoked salmon sandwiches and pastries from a local deli. It was a clear and windless day. Ahead of us, Cally Loch was eerily still. The trees were still, too. The only movement in the whole tableau came from the flies circling above our heads. And from Sandy’s gesticulating hands. The sheep has put him in a reflective mood. “Where there is life,” he said, ripping a cheese and pickle sarnie in two, “there is death.”
This remote stretch of Perthshire, almost exactly halfway between Edinburgh and Inverness, is certainly full of life. On the first day of our long weekend we walked from our cabin to the slightly larger Loch Ordie a few miles away, and the full spectacle was on show. Stern and rugged moors yielding to lush forests. Bees and butterflies whizzing and fluttering through the ferns. Buzzards swooping and circling overhead. The spectacle continued below, with shiny black beetles marching over the bridleway. And then, having completed the four mile journey, we took a cooling paddle in the shallows of the loch. Hundreds of tiny fish darted about our ankles.
But these natural wonders are no longer the only draw for stressed urbanites. This summer the Atholl Estates opened the cabins at Glen Glack, a haven of luxury in the heart of the highland wilderness. Atholl is one of Scotland’s best known country estates, with a history dating back to the 13th century. Home to the current 12th Duke of Atholl, it encompasses over 200 square miles of mountains, moors and woodlands, with Blair Castle — the seat of generations of Murrays and Stewarts — at its centre. The castle was loved by Queen Victoria, who stayed for three weeks in 1844. More recently it served as a location for the popular ITV drama about the monarch.
The cabins at Glen Glack, each with their unique colour and shape, blend harmoniously into the landscape. Ours was a sleek wooden cuboid with scandi-chic interiors; the perfect blend of country cosy and urban style. Inside there are woollen rugs aplenty, a wood-burning stove and even a big button marked “wifi” to make switching off as easy as can be. Some cabins have bathtubs on the veranda, so you can soak with a glass of wine as dusk descends over Cally Loch.
The sophistication doesn’t end with the cabins. A mile down the road — a fifteen minute stroll through girolle-studded woodland — is the attractive town of Dunkeld. Recently voted the best place to live in Scotland, it is also full of life, albeit of a different kind. Cute pubs and smart interiors shops line the high street. At the Scottish Deli, which doubles as a tapas restaurant, shelves are stacked high with artisan pastas and perello olives. On our second night we enjoyed a punchy meal of garlic prawns, chickpea stew and lamb tagine. Almost as vibrant as the food was the atmosphere – it was lively, with families, couples on dates and trail-worn hikers adding to the feeling of pleasant chaos.
After dinner we headed to The Taybard, a pub with rooms owned by a former polo player whose terrace overlooks the babbling River Tay. Grease was being screened in the garden, and a diverse crowd including young people from Denmark and Holland sang along. There were Londoners, too. Dunkeld is on the overnight route from Kings Cross to Inverness, and as we sipped our Guinesses we resolved to one day drift off in the capital and wake up to the majesty of Perthshire.
On our last day Sandy took us fly-fishing. We drove out to Mill Dam Lake where a small rowing boat was waiting for us. He hopped out of the car, attached flies to the line and invited us to climb aboard. I offered to help with the rowing but he waved me away. Instead, he began vigorously sculling into the centre of the lake, which he assured us was full of rainbow trout. After a quick demonstration, I cast the line into the water, and began whipping it off the surface in a flicking motion, as instructed. Half an hour later we’d had nothing but the occasional circumspect nibble.
Then, suddenly, a tug on the end of my girlfriend’s line. Up Sandy leapt. “Pull!” “Gently!” “Easy now!” “That’s it!” And then the line was taught and then the trout was flopping and thudding against the side of the boat. A few more reels. It was in. Sandy grabbed it with one hand and with the other reached for his mallet. Doof. And it was still. “That’s dinner,” he said. Where there is life, there is death.
VISIT PERTHSHIRE YOURSELF A one-night stay in a one bedroomed woodland cabin is from £175 per night for two people; a two bedroomed luxury eco cabin is from £200 per night for four. LNER Trains go from London King’s Cross to Dunkeld daily; it’s one hour 15 minutes from Edinburgh For further information please visit atholl-estates.co.uk or call 01796 481355