NEW YEAR IN SCOTLAND

We had a great week in Scotland over New Year. As readers will know, I go on an annual walking holiday in the Lake District around 1 June. Two years ago, one of us turned 50; and his American wife thought it would be a good idea for a birthday present to assemble five of us walkers, plus our partners and children (who happen to be roughly the same age and sex) in a hunting lodge on an estate near Aviemore. This was a huge success, with fantastic weather (bitterly cold, but brilliant sunshine) and great walking; so we decided to do it again.

This year we rented a lodge on the former estate of the Duke of Atholl. The Duke is the only person in Britain with the right to raise a private army, the Atholl Highlanders, a right granted by Queen Victoria in 1844. The soldiers are mainly recruited from the estate workers and parade every year at Blair Castle, the ancestral house since 1269. This is pretty much the only time the current Duke, the 11th, appears in Scotland. A South African, he inherited the title from his second cousin, once removed, who had never married. Worried about what might happen to the house and land if owned by a foreigner, the 10th Duke placed the 120 room castle and most of the surrounding 140,000 acres of land into a charitable trust, shortly before he died in 1996. There they remain, for the benefit of the people.

"Lodge" isn't quite accurate, since the 21 of us were easily able to fit into its 11 bedrooms, 4 bathrooms, living rooms, dining room (pictured left), gun room, drying room, kitchen and much else. Situated on a private track, 8 miles up the River Tilt from Blair Atholl, and surrounded by hills, the lodge was completely isolated except for the adjoining cottage/farmhouse, where the housekeeper lived. Despite that, it was superbly furnished, with log fires and - most important of all - almost unlimited quantities of hot water for its radiators and massive, old-fashioned baths. Danes very rarely have bathtubs, sticking almost exclusively to showers. But there is nothing like a big hot bath to relax in after a day-long walk over the fells. I didn't have time to examine the plumbing system, but it must have been enormous.

As in Denmark, winter came early to Scotland this year. There were huge chunks of ice in the river (see below), and the track was pretty treacherous in an ordinary car. In the river valley, it gradually thawed during the week, but there was still plenty of snow up on the peaks. On the last day, we "bagged a munro", the term used to describe climbing one of the 284 peaks in Scotland that are more than 3,000 feet (almost 1,000 metres), which was first coined by Sir Hugh Munro in 1891. In summer, this would have required no more than a breezy stroll; but not in winter. Fortunately, our team leader had crampons and an ice axe, which he used to cut steps for the rest of us in some of the ice sheets on the steeper bits. Looking back on it, it was quite exciting, but also decidedly hairy at times.

We spent the week going for long walks, followed by tea, a hot bath, and then a big evening meal washed down with copious amounts of alcohol. Each family took it in turns to make all the food for one day, which made the burden fairly easy. On New Year's Eve itself, we had haggis, which was terrific. I put on more than 4 kg during the week, which is not surprising. I have already lost two of those just by not continuing with such a heavy regime.

It was a great way to spend a holiday, particularly one represented by different generations. I suspect we will be doing something similar in two years' time.

Walter Blotscher