I’ve visited more than 100 countries – but nothing compares to this Scottish island

I’m writing this in one of the toughest places on the planet. On the ferry, being torn away from the soaring eagles, epic drams and vaulting mountains of my favourite Scottish island. By default, then, Arran is my favourite island in the world. I’ve been lucky to explore more than 100 countries, but you can keep Bali and Bora Bora – I prefer to be Brodick-bound.

For full disclosure, with Arran for me it is personal. Deeply so. One side of my family was forged in its rugged southern extremities and I’ve returned almost every year of my half century on this planet. Arran weaned me on adventure, under the guidance of my late parents. It shook into me that there were possibilities beyond the prosaic. For decades I just didn’t realise that all those long roads around six continents would lead back to the Firth of Clyde and an even fuller appreciation of Scotland’s most special isle.

There are others, of course, and I’ve penned articles and books recommending many. But there is little on the others that you cannot find on Arran. And usually on Arran your experience will be even more spectacular, even more spine-tingling, or just plain more delicious on what is undoubtedly Scotland’s foodie isle.

Arran is dubbed “Scotland in Miniature”, and for once this is no shallow marketing epithet. The Highland Boundary Fault rips right through Arran’s ancient heart, sculpting the gnarly north into a wildscape of towering Alpine-esque peaks, tumbling glens and surging waters. The Lowlands south is gentler: still almost embarrassingly scenic, beguiling with rolling hills, sweeping empty sand beaches, fertile farmland and the type of coastal scenery that gets BBC documentary producers salivating. 

It’s hard not to get excited about Arran, an island that constantly over delivers. I once promised my daughters a “wildlife safari weekend” on the only isle home to all of Scotland’s “Big Five” (golden eagle, red deer, common seal, otter and red squirrel). Arran had other ideas. 

Rolling off the ferry, impossibly cute bushy tailed red squirrels hopped across the road just outside Brodick and the girls had scarcely time to tick them off in their wee notepads before we stumbled across a dozen seals sunning themselves below the hulk of Brodick Castle. North Sannox brought a brace of golden eagles; the steep drop into Lochranza a brace of stags. En route to Blackwaterfoot, seeking an elusive otter, we chanced upon our furry friend at Pirnmill. It wasn’t yet lunchtime on the first day, but dad’s Arran safari “weekend” was already over.

This abundance of experiences on this year-round island in the Gulf Stream knows no bounds. Hikers can tackle the 65-mile Arran Coastal Way, savouring some of Scotland’s finest ridge walks. For cyclists, it’s the spirit-soaring 55-mile Round Arran route. Kayaking with the community-owned Lochranza Centre tempts too, alongside horse-riding with two stables. There is even an Arran Snorkel Trail I’ve splashed around with my daughters. 

Nature abounds; the imprint of man too. Arran boasts historic sights aplenty, from brooding castles to mysterious hill forts, spine-tingling chambered cairns and bewitching stone circles. Arran casually continues to share with us the ancient traces of mankind. Last year a massive new Neolithic site was uncovered – the team working on it told me: “Drumadoon’s cursus could be even more significant than Stonehenge.”

This being Arran, they probably won’t shout about the Stonehenge sibling. This is a modest island close enough to Glasgow to keep things real; not a place for highfalutin people, nor attitudes. In summer, it can get busy, especially with day trippers in the bijou capital of Brodick, but it’s never as clogged as Skye. And there is plenty of space for everyone.

There is always something more, too. In what must be approaching 100 visits I’ve never yet yomped to remote Càrn Bàn, and on my most recent trip discovered the community woodland wonderland of Eas Mor, with its tumbling waterfall, and the reborn Corrie Hotel. Reinvention is in Arran’s DNA.

The island suffered under the baleful Clearances, one enterprising former crofter founding Macmillan Publishers; his descendant destined to become Britain’s prime minister. Coming the other way – all are welcome in internationalist Arran – in 2022 were Andy and Rodger. They swapped the madness of Manhattan for the sleepy coastal village of Corrie, where they’ve fashioned a boutique hipster hideaway.

In the Corrie Hotel’s restaurant, I feasted on Arran Blue – for me the world’s finest blue cheese – and seafood. It’s easy to feast on Arran, whether it’s at the brace of superb whisky distilleries, the pair of breweries, or tackling the new Arran’s Food Journey trail. Lamlash Bay lobster is rightly famous, as is Pirnmill lamb. Arran Dairies ice cream – like so much on Arran – is 100 per cent local. This goes on and is ever expanding.

Next door to the hotel I bade farewell to a fellow guest, Clyde the wooden seal. This local celebrity is famous for sitting on a rock fooling photo-snapping tourists. Earlier this year the unthinkable happened and Clyde was washed away in a storm. After a desperate search he was found on the neighbouring isle of Bute and is now undergoing an MOT before returning to his rightful shoreline pew. He had to come back. This is Arran after all, whose tractor beam, I can attest, is unbreakable.

Other Scottish islands that live long in the memory

Hardest to reach… was St Kilda

My late trophy-winning yachtsman dad never completed Scotland’s sailing Holy Grail of forging to distant St Kilda. I’ve been honoured to make it out to this unique archipelago 40 miles west of the Outer Hebrides half a dozen times and I’ve been incredibly lucky to land on five of those. I’ve hiked every inch of Hirta and battled the Atlantic sea-kayaking in this otherworldly outpost you must visit if you get even half a chance. Think puffins, whales and memories seared into your frontal lobes.

My favourite hotel… is on Skye

Luxurious, gloriously old-world Kinloch Lodge on Skye is truly sublime. This old Royal hunting lodge is draped in history, owned by what some say is the real Lord of the Isles. Michelin-quality cooking from Jordan Webb and brilliant fun foraging make for a gorgeous stay with the super welcoming Isabella Macdonald and her team. Wild swimming is a joy too at their Pirate’s Cove, with mountains and sea all around.

The best beaches I’ve ever seen… are on Harris

I once met an American visitor on Harris who told me the epic beaches here in the Outer Hebrides look like the Caribbean. I politely pointed out it is the other way round as these starched white strips of sand are millions of years older on an island with some of the planet’s oldest rocks. I don’t make any claims for the balminess of the water, but when you sit as the only human, with seals to one flank and seabirds on the other, you won’t mind.

My favourite night… was on Papa Westray

One midsummer, I joined the world’s shortest scheduled flight to Papa Westray. After being invited to join the ultra-friendly locals for a BBQ and bonfire, I headed out to the Knap of Howar, a Neolithic site that makes Stonehenge look like Ikea; it’s thought to be almost a millennia older. I sat on the shore by the oldest dwelling in northwestern Europe with a dram of local malt Highland Park watching the sun refuse to set across a glass-calm Atlantic. Sublime.