Silence is golden

For Vanessa Thorpe and family, a holiday in a cabin deep in the heart of a Scottish forest is the perfect antidote to urban living.

AT the end of a track, I slipped off my bike to share a few consolatory sweets in the rain with my children and pass around a single apple that small cold hands soon dropped in the damp gravel.

Hills towered on either side of us and a long line of trees flanked a loch and river. There were a few cows in the distance and we could spot the twinkle of low sunlight on the windscreens of cars on the road in front of us, but, to all intents and purposes, we were alone in our cagoules in the middle of an awful lot of nature. It felt good, but a bit unnatural for us - and that was a key part of the pleasure.

This unaccustomed isolation came courtesy of a holiday company that offers cabins on UK Forestry Commission land. We were staying at the Scottish site, in Strathyre, near the foot of towering Ben Ledi and on the shores of a lovely loch in the Trossachs National Park. But the most startling thing about Strathyre is the silence.

On our rainy cycle ride into neighbouring Callandar, the deep peace was broken just once by the shouts of a family staying in another cabin who called out to us from a footbridge as we passed below. Our chosen route was supposed to be the easiest of those suggested by Strathyre staff, but it was energetic enough.

The bumpy middle section of our journey was the best; the path took us closer to the river and then lurched up and down like a switchback.

As we careered downhill, I noticed I was picking up the most speed - because I was the one towing a two-year-old, stowed behind me in a little trailer and now fast asleep, protected from the misty drizzle (rain).

Rounding a corner, I faced the foaming rapids of the river: a truly exciting thing for someone like me who rarely comes across more evidence of the power of nature than the overflowing downpipe outside our apartment.

Callandar is bordered by a phenomenon that's unknown outside Scotland: a series of huge, hangar-like woollen mills with a vast car park for the tourist coaches.

The town centre also has a fair few woollen shops and those visitors who manage to see past the tartan-clad Scotty Dog soft toys could probably come away with a bargain cardigan.

The ride back up to the log cabins was harder on the legs, and the rain was more persistent. Along the last stretch of the trip, a succession of hardened walkers congratulated me on my efforts - it wasn't quite right, they seemed to imply, that I was the one left pulling the trailer with its heavy, snoozing occupant, while Dad and my elder son whizzed on ahead, the little one pedalling a 'Tag-A-Long' attached to the adult bike. Delighted to play the martyr, from then on I took a dogged pride in the unfair division of labour and each bead of sweat on my brow became a badge of honour.

The first glimpse of the reception at the camp was a welcome sight - the wooden meeting room is the only communal facility, apart from a tasteful wooden playground.

Our two-bedroom cabin was centrally heated but also had a ferocious wood burner, supplies for which could be bought at reception. The decor was pretty up-to-the-minute, with stylish lamp shades and two-tone curtains.

The most luxurious cabins, Golden Oak, cater for the 21st century hedonist's taste for watching the sun go down from a hot tub on a private veranda, glass of wine in hand.

This June will also see another addition to the three sites: a luxury one-bed, one-bathroom treehouse - accessed by a bridge from either a Silver Birch or Golden Oak cabin.

There will be one at Strathyre and at the other two sites: Keldy, North Yorkshire in the north of England and Deerpark in Cornwall, in the south west of England, both of which are also set in woodland maintained by the Forestry Commission.

Buying food was my only bugbear - there's no onsite shop, only a supermarket in the next town. It is much nicer not to have to bother to do mundane things like grocery shopping when you're on a break.

Stocking up before you get to the cabin might even be part of the pleasure of the trip if you stop at the extraordinary, Westmorland motorway service station at Tebay.

For two days we dipped properly into the serenity of our surroundings. No one could claim that we relaxed: it wasn't really a long enough stay and we were with small children, after all, but Strathyre did remind me what large quantities of trees and bracken and still expanses of water can do for your mood.