Inside the secluded Scottish country hotel with stunning lodges – perfect for pets and their humans

SHERLOCK loves to investigate — there’s maybe a clue in the name.

So the second we opened the door to our lodge, he was off; sniffing around the kitchen and living room, peeking through the patio doors to see the expanse of green on the other side, then pattering upstairs to check out the sleeping arrangements.

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Next thing he’s barking and we’re thinking: Is there someone up there? Has he found a cat?

But no. He’s letting us know that, on the windowsill, there’s a big plate of dog biscuits with his name on them.

If he could talk, he’d have told us there and then that this was his perfect getaway.

Though his mum and I had already decided the very same thing.

Shez spent a lazy hour looking out that big picture window, across the fields and down towards Loch Tay. In between biccies, of course!
Sonia sat in a comfy chair beside the bed, visibly more relaxed by the minute. That’s what the Ardeonaig Hotel does for the mind and the body.

Its tranquil setting miles off the beaten track, the whitewashed 17th Century frontage, the quality of its accommodation — be it hotel rooms, lodges or self-contained pods — the comfiness of the beds, they all whisper for you to leave all your cares at the door and let everything drift away.

Given the chance of two or three days break in the middle of a week, this is exactly what Sonia and I would choose; to do the square root of hee-haw.

Here, seven miles along a single-track road between Killin and Aberfeldy, it feels like the art of hee-haw-ness was discovered.

We spent our time wandering down to the loch to watch hardy souls dive in off the pier for a swim, to let the wee fella have a paddle, but mostly just to stand there, looking out into the glassy water and breathe in the silence.

At Ardeonaig, there’s just you and nature and a feeling of endless time and space. Not that a stay there comes with the obligation of switching off and tuning out.

If you fancied, it would be a brilliant place to go with pals for a get-together, its five lodges and four stand-alone pods all perfectly set up for a self-catering stay, each even with its own hot tub.

Every bit of kitchen equipment in ours — fridge, dishwasher, washing machine and tumbler dryer, cooker, microwave, right down to the kettle – was new and spotless.

As it was, we didn’t christen much of it as we chose to eat in the hotel’s excellent restaurant. We did ask Sherlock if he wanted to come, as the downstairs bar is dog-friendly, but he looked at us as if to say: “What? With all these biscuits still to be eaten?”

So off we popped for some absolutely outstanding food. If you fancy popping in just for dinner, they do two courses for £25 or three for £32.50, which is worth every penny. On our first night, Sonia enjoyed the salmon and prawn terrine followed by slowly braised beef blade, and on the second night a rosette of melon with Parma ham then pan-fried chicken Balmoral.

I had duck spring rolls and the terrine as my starters, but on both nights my main had to be their sensational sea bass and king prawns with sauteéd samphire and chowder. Great flavour, stunning presentation.

Breakfast, too, was top drawer, as was the service from hands-on owner Karen Cromar and her staff of Gary, Tony, Oscar and Andi.
And in between meals?

Well, we pretty much went back to doing nothing. We did drive to Aberfeldy for a wander and a coffee, but mostly, we just wandered down the loch, let Sherlock investigate, sit in the beer garden and say hello to passing cyclists, the wee man would eat more biscuits, we’d listen to music before drifting off into afternoon nap-time, dreaming of life being like this forever.

Only trouble is, now Shez can’t go into a house without taking the huff if there isn’t a packed lunch waiting for him on the windowsill.