Travel: Lochaber, Highlands

Stopping to immerse myself in the peace, letting a hand drop into the crystal clear water and drifting for a moment in the current, a heron takes flight, its elongated neck and vast wingspan suddenly and quite shockingly prehistoric against the greying sky. A seal or two bobs to the surface in the distance then disappears again. All around is pure, unadulterated, spectacular silence.

Travel junkies search all year for the latest undiscovered spot on this increasingly populated planet. They delight in finding a deserted tropical bay or stretch of coastline undeveloped and untouched by global tourism. Haven't they heard of Scotland?

We set sail from Glenuig Bay, following the coast south until Ardnamurchan Point is in our sights, the islands of Eigg and Rhum to the west and the dramatic Cuillins just visible in the distance, shrouded in morning mist.

Stopping off at a tiny deserted beach, where deer tracks pepper the sand, wild goats and a flock of sheep quietly graze on the cliffs, occasionally looking up from their meal to assess their unexpected, strangely clad visitors (waterproof trousers and spray deck skirt is not my most glamorous look). The scenery is, quite simply, beautiful. This is the country at its very best. Pure, raw, breathtakingly lovely, with the power to catch at the heart.

This is day one of what is billed an adventure trip to Lochaber. We're staying at the Glenuig Inn, an eco-friendly 18th-century inn which is proud to boast 100 per cent renewable energy. But we have little time to do true justice to Steve Macfarlane's vast selection of organic wine, Scottish spirits and real ales. For the adventure continues at Kingairloch Estate, a 14,000-acre family-run sporting estate on the shores of Loch Linnhe, where we enjoy an unforgettable meal at the Boathouse restaurant (the beetroot-cured salmon with edible flowers will live long in my memory and tastebuds, as will the venison, shot on the estate and so tender it could make you weep).

We indulge in a spot of target practice – aiming at a non-moving tin stag, not the real thing, though it’s staggering how powerful a person can feel with a Mannlicher .243 trigger in their fingers – and even manage to hear a deer or two calling out mournfully in the distance.

Then it's onward and – quite literally – upward, this time to Nevis Range, a series of ski slopes, challenging mountain bike trails and gondola that soar up the north face of Aonach Mor, in the shadow of Ben Nevis. For those unafraid of heights (or foolish enough to give it a try anyway) there is also the high wire adventure ropes: basically an assault course 200 feet up in the trees, from which you could fall to your death at any moment.

Actually, that's not strictly true. We were ten metres off the ground. And secured at all times with a safety harness. But you'd never have known from our yelps of fear and quivering, vertiginous knees. Happily, a 100m zipwire takes us back to terra firma, an invigorating reward for facing our fears so heroically.

But, for me, the highlight of the trip is white water rafting on the River Garry. While some rivers have a tendency to be a little – well – tame on occasion, Garry is a guaranteed high-energy spot thanks to the water regularly released from the hydro dams further up river. So after donning yet another wetsuit plus hardhat and lifejacket (no, you can not see the pictures, they have all been destroyed), followed by the regulation safety briefing, we tramp to our designated sailing point, heaving the boat between us. It’s a bonding exercise before we even get started.

As our boat joins the flow of the river, we practice a few commands: “Paddle left!” “Right!” “Get down!” “We’re all going to drown!”

OK, I made that last bit up too.

Then we take on the white water proper. A word of warning: if you don’t fancy getting wet, don’t bother with this part of the trip. And definitely don’t sit in the front of the boat. However, if you want some adrenaline-fuelled fun and are willing to paddle hard for your thrills, you’re in for a treat, as you plunge down a course pitted with rocks, sharp drops and churning water. Listen to the commands of your guide at the back of the boat, he’s keeping everything on course and averting potential disaster or – everyone’s worst fear – capsize.

As a finale, we have the option of leaping from a rock at the edge of the river into a whirlpool which will, in theory, suck you under then pop you back up a few seconds later further downriver.

Brave enough? You bet I was. And though that dastardly whirlpool failed to keep me down for long (I’m told I popped right back up like a cork), what a buzz.

On the drive back home, hair still damp, heart still pumping, head still spinning, I’m hard-pressed to decide what has left the biggest impression. Sea kayaking with seals? High wire in the pines? Getting my first ever feel of a real gun – and liking it? But in the end, my most vivid memory is of the beauty of this country I call home. It fair makes you proud to be a Scot.

Glenuig Inn (01687 470 219, glenuig.com), from £25pppn B&B in the bunkhouse to £95 for a double or twin room.

Rockhopper sea kayaking (07739 837 344, [email protected]), from £40 per boat for a half day to £195 for two-day overnight trip with food and camping equipment.

Kingairloch Highland Estate (01967 411 242, kingairloch.co.uk).

Nevis Range, Fort William (01397 705 825, www.nevisrange.co.uk), £23 per adult for three high-wire courses; gondola £11.

Highland Activities white water rafting (08450 945513, www.highlandactivities.co.uk), prices from £45 pp.