Ruth Walker: Warning – never Google insects. Especially not at night. And not the images

I’VE just got back from a fantastic trip to the West Highlands. Seriously. It was so much fun.

The rain stayed off. The food was incredible. The company hilarious. Over the course of two days, we packed in sea kayaking, high-wire action, a trip to the top(ish) of Aonach Mor and white-water rafting on the River Garry. Two days wasn't nearly long enough. We barely scratched the surface.

Did I mention the food? Because something certainly made a meal out of me. Was it the mythical monster midge? The creature of legend that lurks at the shores of Scottish lochs, waiting to feast on the flesh of unsuspecting but gullible tourists? Bit late in the season, I thought. For monsters and tourists.

I'd hoped the itching would subside once I got home but, alas, whatever took a fancy to my warm lowland blood appears to have hitched a ride and continues to make me go bump in the night. I feared fleas. So I sprayed the cat (she liked that a lot), hoovered the bed and boil-washed the bedding. Still getting bitten.

Then I began to fear bedbugs (horrors!). So I did what all sensible people do in times of life-threatening, world-shattering crisis. I Googled. And put Sellotape on the legs (not mine, silly, the bed's: apparently it stops things crawling up).

A word of warning – never Google insects. Especially not at night. And especially not the images. I've seen so many close-up, microscopic pictures of all manner of beasties, my flesh will be crawling for months, bites or no bites. Their scaly bodies and long, creepy legs. Their nasty, twitching antennae. Their expressionless faces showing no remorse or guilt at the misery they cause ...

Did you know bedbugs can live for a whole year without getting so much as a nibble at a naked ankle? And when they do get a chance to chow down, they are strict three-meals-a-day types? They tend to bite in patterns of three or four, which experts refer to as ‘breakfast, lunch and dinner'. Presumably some of them also like a little supper to finish things off. Or a small after-dinner mint to aid digestion. A little after-dinner me, more like.

Anyway, it's not bedbugs. Can't be. Mum and Dad slept there while I was away and emerged intact. Plus, there's no evidence (bar the bites) to indicate an infestation (I'll spare you the details – you're probably eating breakfast and are already feeling slightly queasy. Heavens! You picked up Spectrum for a little light relief, and now you're scratching for no apparent reason and you don't really fancy that muesli any more. But, if you're interested, and have a strong stomach, get on to RentoGoogle).

Then the daily search for bites and bodies revealed a corpse. A small thing with legs and wings. I found a couple of its living chums too, though they soon joined their compatriot in a bit of balled-up toilet paper. Kind of like midges but a bit bigger (probably overweight and engorged on my rhesus negative).

So, is that the end of the matter? Could three flying, biting things have caused (at the last count) 32 puncture wounds on the Walker physique? Unfortunately, I fear I may have only scratched the surface.