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A combined walk and boat trip through sublime scenery. From Morar’s silver sands, follow Britain’s shortest river (half a mile) to the loch. Tarred at first, the way turns into an undulating track beside the water. It then wends to its destination at the lovely bay of Tarbet. Arrive by 3:30pm to catch the ferry back to Mallaig.

No juke boxes, video games, coach parties, briefcases or football colours. Instead, the Old Forge offers legendary music sessions, superb, unpretentious food, open fires and free moorings if you arrive by boat. The sea almost laps at the door, and Knoydart’s scenery is equal to the best. Combine with the walk by Loch Morar.

A simple, isolated cottage with five-star views over the sea to Skye and the Western Isles – sunsets are utterly breathtaking. Only accessible by foot, Craig is 3 miles (5 km) from Little Diabeg or 5 miles (9 km) from Red Point – and lovely miles they are too. You’ll need to bring a sleeping bag, and bear in mind that there’s no phone on site.

The more rain, the merrier for this one, so leave your visit until after a wet day – or seven! The upper falls are impressive; the lower falls even more so, plunging a spectacular 30 m (100 ft). The yellow-white torrent gushes into a black bowl, hollowed deep in the forest, and the almighty roar of the water is as inspiring as the magnificent sight.

It’s only a short walk, about a mile (2 km), between these two captivating villages (see Moray Coast Villages), but don’t let that deceive you. A few Tarzan-ish qualities are required, for in places your only links to Mother Earth are chains bolted to the rock and toe-holds. Given these restrictions, it requires great care but is not hard. A mini-adventure amid rocks and grassy cliffs, ending in the secret world of Crovie.

Could there be a hostel grander than this? Once home for the exiled King of Norway, the castle was built as a Romantic folly in 1914, with ballroom, library, marble fireplaces and a staircase of epic proportions. The art may not be the best but it looks the part, and sometimes there are more statues than guests.

Scotand’s most beautiful road – drive it in spring when it’s almost consumed by yellow-flowering whins, or in winter when surf erupts against the shore, or on a blue summer evening when Assynt’s mountains assume the shape of absurd scribbles. But do drive it: take the A835 north from Ullapool, go west at Drum-runie, follow signs to Lochinver, then the B869 to Kylesku.

Perhaps it’s the colourful strata patterning the rocks (Lewisian gneiss, among the world’s oldest) or the quality of the sand. Perhaps it’s the huge stack that stands sentinel at one end like some antediluvian shepherd. Or the Atlantic waves that charge in with billowing crests. Or is it the fact that so often you can have this mind-stretching expanse of beach to yourself?

Scotland’s first World Heritage Site, this archipelago of monumental cliffs was, until 1930, inhabited by a highly individual community who lived off the islands’ millions of sea-birds. Such is St Kilda’s isolation that it has its own subspecies of mouse, wren and sheep. Hard to get to, but if you can it’ll touch your soul.

A feis (“faysh”) is a festival of Gaelic arts combined with workshops. Lasting several days, most take place in the Highlands and Islands, always with terrific performances and blistering dances.