There’s many a lovely tearoom in the Highlands, but no restorative cuppa will match the one I had halfway up a mountain with a llama called Atticus.
It was late one morning and, in a rare parenting win, I’d managed to persuade my two small children – William, six, and Megan, four – to tramp up a winding path through the foothills of the Cairngorms.
Our youngest, ten-month-old Henry, was strapped to my chest.
Meet the gang: Guy with his wife Katie, Megan, four, William, six, and ten-month-old Henry
The air was fresh and bracing, views stretched for miles and the heather was alive with chirruping songbirds.
We saw inquisitive sheep, soaring eagles and, on a distant hillside, a herd of deer poised and on guard to flee at the first sign of alarm.
Atticus, a goofy chap who looked permanently bemused, was accompanied by Jet and Bradley, led on reins by the children and my wife, Katie. On the backs of the llamas were canvas packs filled with Thermos flasks and slices of cake.
Eventually, we reached a scenic picnic spot. Simon, our guide, poured tea and hot chocolate and passed out the food.
Rustic and rugged: The family journeyed to the breathtaking Highlands for an outdoor break
This, to the uninitiated, is llama trekking, and it’s just one of the many unconventional ways to enjoy the Highlands.
Sometimes seen as a place only suited to hardy hikers and hillwalkers, this spectacularly beautiful part of Scotland is, for my money, the most consistently under-rated family holiday destination in Britain.
Beginning just north of Perth and ebbing up to John o’Groats, it boasts mountain scenery to rival the Alps, white beaches that recall the Caribbean, endless romantic castles, lochs to fish in, rivers to canoe and forests to cycle through.
Thanks to the post-Brexit turmoil on the currency markets, this summer may well see it prove itself as an attractive alternative to some of the more exotic corners of Europe.
I’ve been visiting for years and find that the trick when planning a Highland trip is to stay one step removed from the busiest tourist towns and to hire a decent car.
We found ourselves in a Vauxhall Astra Sports Tourer, which made quick work of the hillside that frames Ecocamp Glenshee, a family-run glamping site half an hour’s drive east of Pitlochry, a small town famous for its salmon ladder and festival theatre.
Guests pitch their own tents or stay in a Scandi-style wooden eco-pod, shepherd’s hut or bell tent surrounded by fields full of sheep, goats and free-range chickens, as well as the resident llamas. Views are spectacular.
The owners, Simon and Fiona Calvin, are accomplished hosts who cook a mean Scottish breakfast and organise endless activities to keep guests busy, from llama trekking to archery and canoeing, mountain biking and mountaineering.
One of their big passions is local wildlife. They helped fix up a magical afternoon with Daniele Muir, a naturalist who took us to a local loch to enjoy pond dipping.
Cosy: At Ecocamp Glenshee, guests can pitch tents, or stay in eco-pods and shepherd’s huts
We used butterfly nets to catch dragonflies and fishing nets to find their larvae, while scouring the undergrowth for toads and voles.
By the end of the session, William and Megan were budding David Attenboroughs.
On days further afield, we passed through the Landmark Forest Adventure Park, a sort of Highland Alton Towers, but for a fraction of the price and double the charm.
Hit the road: Guy hired a Vauxhall Astra Sports Tourer to get around the Highlands
We had a wonderful day at Blair Castle, the ancestral home of the Dukes of Atholl.
We spent a morning zipping around the grounds on Segways, like extras in a science fiction movie. In the afternoon, we jumped into a Land Rover driven by the Duke’s former gamekeeper, Sandy Reid, and were whisked into the mountains.
For several incredible hours, we drove up Glen Tilt, a long, secluded valley where salmon leap up roaring waterfalls and stag roam the hills.
According to rumour, Queen Victoria once did improper things with her ghillie. A lady of taste, she was, like me, fond of the occasional Highland fling.