Scotland was in a mysteriously beautiful, damp and atmospheric mood ...

Soft mists revealing teasing glimpses of snow capped mountains and boggy lochs.

We followed the road west from Inverness and over the mountain pass towards Applecross, to its friendly inn for Mother’s day lunch.

Local ale, haddock and chips, and creamy, oaty cranachan to die for.

We waved, like tourists and small children do, to the skiers and boarders from the railway on the way up and down Cairn Gorm.

The accomplished ones waved back at us.

We were invited to join a group of wee, local children in toasting marshmallows on sticks in a smoky forest hut.

We saw mewing baby reindeer - and dark, shadowy monsters in the ripples across Loch Ness.

And sipped single malt whiskeys with romantic expertise.