What happened when we took family life into the woods.
Our family break at Forest Holidays Strathyre brought log cabins, Loch Lubnaig, canoeing, cycling, a Persian barbecue and rather more wasps than anyone ordered. Somewhere between the weak phone signal and Cyrus learning to ride a bike, normal life stopped demanding quite so much of us.
Does getting away from everything actually help you switch off?
I thought going to the woods would be relaxing. This was before the wasps discovered our Persian barbecue.
There were hundreds of them. Or at least enough that turning a saffron-marinated chicken kebab began to feel less like dinner and more like a low-budget survival programme.
And yet, oddly, this was one of the most relaxing family breaks we had taken. I had assumed switching off required peace and quiet. Strathyre had other ideas.
A cabin in the trees and a quick trip back to civilisation
The Strathyre site at Ben Ledi felt properly tucked away. The air seemed cleaner, the trees taller and the phone signal weaker. Usually, weak signal irritates me. This time, I wasn’t entirely sorry to see it disappear.
Our lodge was warm and modern inside, with dark wood, large windows and a hot tub on the deck. Those windows mattered as even when we were inside, the forest remained part of the room. Naturally, the children considered the hot tub theirs within minutes.
Meanwhile, the hunter-gatherer dads made a tactical retreat to Callander to buy food, snacks and all the things you inevitably realise you have forgotten once you are already surrounded by trees.
For the first evening, we chose the easy option and pre-ordered pizzas with garlic bread and raspberry ripple ice cream. After travelling, unpacking and negotiating sleeping arrangements, nobody felt the need to prove anything by cooking.
Having pizza and raspberry ripple delivered to a log cabin on our first night in the wilderness was deeply satisfying.
Space: Plenty for two families without feeling as though we were permanently sitting on top of one another.
Kitchen: Properly usable, although I would bring the main grocery shop rather than relying on buying everything once you arrive.
Hot tub: Private to the cabin and inevitably popular with children and dads.
Connectivity: Mobile reception can be patchy. For me, that became part of the appeal rather than a problem.
The forest was beautiful. It was not entirely peaceful.
The moment we fired up the barbecue, the wasps appeared. They seemed to rate the saffron marinade with particular gusto. Our jujeh kebabs had apparently become the hottest restaurant in Queen Elizabeth Forest Park.
This is one of the things I love about travelling with our Persian family and friends. We don’t entirely leave home behind. Bits of it come with us, usually in tubs, bags and an improbable quantity of food. There we were in a Scottish forest with saffron-marinated chicken on the barbecue and mirza ghasemi on the table.
Different landscape, familiar foods.
The children were trying to eat mirza ghasemi without becoming moving targets while the adults attempted to turn chicken skewers without provoking an aerial assault. Eventually, we adopted the only sensible woodland strategy available: cook the food, dodge the wasps and pour the wine.
Our jujeh kebabs had apparently become the hottest restaurant in Queen Elizabeth Forest Park.
The canoe looked easier from the shore
One of the highlights of the stay was canoeing on Loch Lubnaig.
Our friend bravely joined Cyrus and me despite not being able to swim. As I paddled badly and tried to look confident with my oar, I was silently calculating how fast I could grab her if we capsized.
From the shore, canoeing had looked wonderfully serene. On the water, I spent rather more time wondering why the canoe appeared to have developed opinions of its own.
Apparently, we weren’t the only people whose technique required refinement. One poor soul actually fell into the loch and had to be rescued. Thankfully, everyone lived to tell the tale, although one person was considerably soggier than before.
Hot chocolate and happy children
Not everything involved physical peril.
Cyrus and Termeh discovered the pottery café, where they painted squirrels and cats in metallic colours while drinking hot chocolate with whipped cream .
By the end of the stay, we had acquired a small collection of painted creatures, none of them matched anything in our house. Naturally, they were treasures.
We hired bicycles, which sounded idyllic.
In practice, my heart was in my mouth watching Cyrus wobble along the gravel path for the first time. Then our friend Sadegh, who loves a spin class, somehow got him going. Within minutes, Cyrus was cycling through the trees as though he had been doing it for years.
After that, he rode through patches of sunlight, stopped for ice cream and carried on.
There is something strange about watching your child suddenly master something that, minutes earlier, they could not do. One moment you are hovering beside them, convinced disaster is imminent. The next they are moving away from you.
I wanted him to ride, I was ridiculously proud when he did. I also wouldn’t have objected if he’d stayed within grabbing distance for another five minutes.
And then it rained
The sunshine did not last. When the drizzle arrived, we collected stones by the loch to paint later. The children painted their hands too, because no art session is complete until somebody has covered themselves in purple paint.
Back at the cabin, they built dens from sofa cushions while the dads returned to the hot tub. Everybody, it seemed, had found their preferred response to Scottish weather. Rain didn’t cancel the holiday.
Those may have been my favourite bits.
A coffee. A window full of trees. Nowhere we particularly needed to be.
No activity booked, timetable to keep checking and no reason to turn half an hour of doing very little into something productive. I am very good at inventing the next job while I am still doing the current one. Sitting there with nowhere to be felt unexpectedly luxurious.
Wine, blankets and the luxury of sitting still
Once the children were in bed, we sat downstairs wrapped in blankets.
There was wine.
Quite a lot of it.
After a day involving oars, bicycles, children, rain and aggressive insects, nobody felt especially guilty about doing absolutely nothing.
Nothing miraculous happened. We didn’t suddenly become one of those wholesome outdoor families who rise with the sun, forage for breakfast and somehow know where everyone’s waterproofs are.
The children still made a mess. It still rained. The dads still disappeared into the hot tub. We were still us.
At home, family life competes with everything else. There is always an email, a school message, a job, a screen or something that needs washing, answering, booking or finding.
At Strathyre, there was a lot less competing for our attention. I noticed Cyrus wobbling on a bicycle and then, suddenly, not wobbling. I noticed the children painting their hands purple, and I noticed my friend getting into a canoe despite not being able to swim.
I also noticed the smell of saffron chicken cooking among the trees, shortly before every wasp in Scotland apparently noticed it too.
The woods didn’t make family life quieter. They made everything else quieter around it.
Yes, but I did not home transformed into an outdoorswoman. I liked Strathyre because it gave us enough to do without making us feel as though every hour needed filling.
There was canoeing, cycling and pottery when we wanted activity, the hot tub and cabin when we didn’t, and the forest itself did quite a lot of the entertaining.
It wasn’t perfect. You need to arrive prepared. The Scottish weather remains magnificently indifferent to your plans, and organised activities can add to the cost. But for families who want some adventure, coffee and the possibility of a glass of wine after bedtime, it works.
I’d go back. I’d just pack more dishwasher tablets and considerably more wasp repellent.
Forest Holidays Strathyre at a glance
A relaxed family break with woodland, hot tubs, and outdoor adventure.
Warm, modern and family-friendly, with large windows, plenty of space and a private hot tub.
Canoeing, pottery, cycling and the forest itself gave the children plenty to do without every minute needing to be organised. Bear in mind that organised activities may cost extra.
Beautifully tucked into Queen Elizabeth Forest Park, while Callander is close enough for the inevitable forgotten essentials.
Best for: Families who want outdoor activities
Groceries: I would bring the bulk of your food with you, particularly for a longer family stay, and use Callander for forgotten essentials rather than starting the holiday with an enormous supermarket expedition.
Connectivity: Mobile reception can be patchy. For me, that became part of the appeal rather than a problem.
Who might not love it: Anyone expecting hotel service, restaurants on demand or complete protection from Scottish weather and wildlife.
What I’d pack for a Strathyre cabin break
- Waterproofs
- Wellies
- Swimsuits for the hot tub
- Coffee
- Extra dishwasher tablets
- Extra toilet rolls
- Kitchen roll and a sponge
- Games and books
- Torches
- Gloves for canoeing
- Fishing nets, bubbles and water balloons for the children
I went to Strathyre expecting the woods to make family life calmer.
They didn’t.
They gave me enough time to notice it properly.
When you think about your best family holidays, what do you actually remember: the things you booked, or the little moments nobody planned?
Editorial note: This review reflects our own experience at Forest Holidays Strathyre. Activities, facilities and prices can change, so check current information before booking.
Discover more from Saffron & Cyrus
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
Saffron & Cyrus is an independent women’s editorial publication with a recognisable voice, real-life perspective, a defined midlife audience and a commercial model built around useful, relevant partnerships.
Loved this post…