CALL OF THE WILD

I wander out the cabin door, coffee in hand, and sit on the outside sofa.

There is absolute peace in this place, surrounded by ancient Caledonian pines deep in the Cairngorms National Park. The woodland keeps any breeze at bay, yet allows a soft light to filter through to the small collection of rustic wooden cabins and camping meadow below. A wren lands at my feet and lunges for an insect before darting off. Paradise.

Before long, two bickering kids – my kids – pour out the cabin behind and the peace is shattered. They are desperate to run through the site to feed the ducks, then get into the woods to explore the trails, swing on the swings and guddle in the streams. Someone jogs my elbow and the coffee spills.

Ach well, it was nice while it lasted.

They are heading off, but so am I. I lift my helmet from the table behind, zip up my jacket and push my bike up to the reception building where I am meeting the boss of the Lazy Duck, Phil Hodgkiss.

I say boss, but he is very much one of a