The hotel.

Two hours and twelve minutes after we leave the front door in St Andrews we arrive at our hotel in the Scottish Highlands. En route there's almost no traffic and the only thing that's held us up are sheep opting for a nap in the middle of the road.

The hotel we've booked into has a wee river running through the garden. The river may be wee but its surprisingly manic . We quietly wonder how many overly inquisitive guests get swept away but keep this thought to ourselves.

The room we're shown to is decorated in an 'Edwardian' style. Two large chairs fill the window. The chairs are of the 'once sprung' variety that look good but sag if you so much as look at them. As we booked at the last minute we can't complain. Angus asks the tartan clad lady at the front desk if there's anything a bit more spacious but is firmly told ' We're extremely busy'. The word 'extremely' is emphasized in a way that makes it clear this is the last room available and we should be grateful for what we've got.

The cleaning team must curse the ornaments that fill every spare corner. Anyone wishing to retain their sanity would not want to come here with toddlers.

The lobby has one of those pianos that plays tunes automatically and never endingly. A white dog emerges from under a sofa and peers at us quizzically as we come down for breakfast. There is another dog asleep under the front desk but it's too comfortable to even register our presence.

We quickly notice the antler heavy design emphasis. The pop-up Italian restaurant has hundreds of them hanging from the ceiling.

Returning to the room we come face to face with this on the landing.

Look up and there are yet more antlers.

When (if ) the cloud lifts we shall set off to explore the neighbourhood.