This secluded cabin in the Scottish Highlands is perfect for a weekend reset (and accessible via train)

The wild does things to me. As I’m sure it does you. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve edited features referencing the power – borne out in research – of being surrounded by natural landscapes for improved mental health. As such, when I heard about a new destination that promises all the magic of a hard-to-reach, rugged Celtic landscape – but easily accessible from a London terminus – I was all ears.

Glen Glack cabins are nestled into woodland at the south of the Atholl Estate, a 145,000 acre sprawl across highland Perthshire comprising rugged moors, woodlands and mountains. It’s the preserve of the 12th Duke of Atholl, with the austere Blair castle – which has stood for over 900 years – at its heart.

The nearest town – the picturesque, riverside Dunkeld – is described as the gateway to the Scottish Highlands; almost halfway between Edinburgh and Inverness. It takes between six and eight hours to get there from King’s Cross, depending on changes – some trains go direct. I’d had visions of tearing through my to-do list, but spent my in-transit hours gazing out the window. For all their – many – faults, these isles aren’t half pretty when you really look, hey?

After a short car ride from Dunkeld and Birnam station, through the sort of vertiginous forest that soon makes you and your problems feel smaller and smaller, I was sat on the deck of Larch cabin – my home for the weekend.

As I listened to trees rustle, a stream trickle and a noisy chorus of birds put the world to rights before Friday night properly drew in, I knew – pretty much instantly – that this was precisely the weekend I needed.

Let’s talk lodgings…

There are five luxury, sumptuously decorated eco cabins that face onto the glass-still Cally Loch. The interiors mirror the palette on the other side of the window: russets, neutrals, exposed wood.

The open plan kitchen and living area of my cabin are painted in the richest teal, with a log burner for cosy evenings – along with satisfyingly weighty cook and dinnerware. The whole thing nails that deceptively hard-to-pull-off balance between contemporary design and rustic charm.

Switch off the Wifi to switch into rest mode

After being settled in and shown the ropes by our host (pointers on working a log burner are available if that’s an adult skill you’re also still yet to acquire) I jump into a steaming bath. If al fresco bathing is more your thing, book into Juniper, the two-person, burnt orange-coloured cabin with an outdoor tub.

There’s wifi – but it’s easily extinguished with the satisfying flick of an antique brass switch. And, honestly, you won’t miss the rest of the world’s news or updates from your loved ones and parasocially-bonded social media faves. This place is a sensory feast. I spent each morning fluffy robe-clad, freshly-brewed coffee in hand, where I started: out on the deck, book on my lap but attention elsewhere.

The Loch-facing veranda outside Larch cabin

The way the sunlight dances through the trees. The way that clean, crisp air hits my grateful lungs – which have grown accustomed to the pollution levels of my home off a south east London high street.

I do my ‘proper’ meditation (20 minutes on waking; 20 minutes later in the day) for the first time in ages and keep my eyes peeled for local mammalian wildlife – from deer (success) to the rare red squirrel (no such luck).

I’m not really the ‘sitting around’ kind TBH…

Well, there is much to keep you entertained. If you’re into the history of the aristocracy you can hit up Blair Castle; whisky nerds may also fancy a nose around, given it was within the walls of this place that the world’s oldest recorded bottles of the spirit were discovered last winter.

For me, though, it was all about the landscape. I’d recommend a hike (you’ll find helpful maps with easy-to-follow routes in your cabin) to take in the impressive scenes: stark moors, hypnotically still waters, rolling mountains, heathers and mosses of every colour.

Heathers; swimming in Loch Ordie; inside Progression Bikes

To maximise time, and see as much as possible, I’m advised to take in the sights on two wheels. However, my off-road cycling ability is such (read: not much) that I didn’t fancy tackling hilly terrain powered only by my own thighs.

So, the team at Progression Bikes Scotland sorted me out with an e-bike (manual options are also available, plus they can organise guided rides and cycle routes for children). It was 100% the right call; I was able to zoom around my specially-recommended trail, past the best spot for loch swimming.

That being Loch Ordie. It’s wild swimming but – despite the remoteness – actually pretty unintimidating. Yes, getting into the water is cool but it’s also oh-so clear and the smooth stones underfoot ease your way in.

I did not want to leave. It was only the knowledge that cool water exposure has a time cap (and remembering that I had a not-insignificant cycle back, and desire to scrub up properly for an early dinner reservation) that stopped me from breaststroking my way around its still, smooth waters – and gassing with my fellow swimmers – for longer.

Glad you mentioned food…

Of course. The cabins are self-catered, so I’d recommend stocking up at Dunkeld’s main drag on your way (or, organised folk, the nearest big Tesco delivers). You can also request that your hosts leave a food package – complete with high-quality, local produce – in your cabin for ease. But it would be remiss to not explore what’s on offer in town.

I’d recommend swinging by Aran bakery – a breakfast and coffee spot with a Pinterest-worthy aesthetic and a pastry selection varied enough to hold its own next to your favourite east London go-to. (I was overwhelmed by choice and fell back on my old faithful almond croissant – 10/10 though.)

Local produce at The Scottish Deli; pastry line up at Aran bakery

The Scottish Deli, over the road, is a must-hit: hearty whole-food classic meals are on offer, as well as delicious tapas and a solid wine list in charmingly unfussy settings. Definitely grab your cheeses, deli bits and fruit from here to enjoy back at your cabin – and ensure the locally caught and cured salmon has a spot on your list.

But the jewel in the crown of Dunkeld’s hospitality offering is, for me anyway, The Taybank. The imposing Victorian building stands on the bank of the river Tay – you can sit outside for casual drinks and wood-fired pizza (nice for lunch) and book in for dinner at its upstairs restaurant.

The Taybank’s riverside garden and upstairs dining room

I’d recommend the latter: this is not just pub grub; the ingredients are quality, flavours original and as much attention is paid to the presentation of the dishes as to the elegant surrounds. My subtly sweet crab ravioli – the meat cradled in squid ink pasta and served in a the lightest, freshest broth; garnished with roe with edible flowers – was one of the most beautiful plates I’ve been served in a while – full stop. And certainly in a pub.

By the time I board my train back down to London I’m refreshed, restored – and keen to redecorate. A weekend truly well, and wildly, spent.

Go there!

Head to the Atholl Estates website for bookings and enquiries

Book a train via Trainline.com BOOK NOW or Fly to Edinburgh or Inverness with British Airways BOOK NOW

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