An opportunity arose for me to take a quick trip up to Aberdeen to visit my son for two days. Knowing that a drive would eat into the little time we had together, and be costly, I chose to fly up from Birmingham. By taking the early Saturday morning flight I would be in Aberdeen by 10.00am, leaving the rest of the day available for whatever activities we chose to do. Unfortunately the weather was not very kind to us, and knowing this, Stephen had booked us in for a distillery tour at 1.00. In the meantime we headed out to the mouth of the River Ythan to the north of the city. Leaving the car, we walked over the sand dunes on the south side of the estuary and dropped down to the beach. A brisk wind came at us from the North Sea. Across the estuary, on the opposite shore, were hundreds of seals, a huge colony made up of large, black males, a great many paler females and lots of pups in varying stages of development. Squabbles broke out on the crowded beach as the occupants protected their space or just because they felt grumpy. Great seal groans boomed across the water from the males as they used their noise to control their females and to warn off other, nearby males.

In the water, heads bobbed up and down and some seals came close to our shore to have a look at us. When we looked back the dived noisily to reappear a little further along the shore to watch us as we walked by. They are a very curious species and their huge eyes and long lashes melt any heart.

We walked out to the end of the estuary, only to turn back the way we had come. The seals followed us, curious. Going further up the estuary we came to part of an upturned wooden hull embedded in the sand with clusters of tiny mussels around its base. How long had it been there? Quite a while by the looks of it.

Returning to the car we grabbed a bite of early lunch before going to the Glen Garioch Distillery at Oldmeldrum, one of the oldest operating distilleries in Scotland. Production of whisky has been carried out on this site since 1797. The tour was a pleasurable experience but, as so often happens these days, there is very little activity to see, especially at the weekend. There is nobody working anywhere in the distillery other than the guides, and the process is so automated that there are very few workers, full stop. There was nothing happening in the malting area, and certainly no heat, which would have been appreciated on such a chilly day. No mashing was taking place and all the vats and apparatus were empty and spotlessly clean. We were told it was all ready for starting the process all over again on Monday morning. We did not get the smell of fermentation or the rich fragrances from the distillery.

Once the tour was over we returned to the shop where they tempted us to buy some by giving us small samplers. As Stephen was driving, he was given some to take home. My samples were lovely, although I preferred mine without the addition of water, but as I only had hand luggage I really didn’t have the capacity for extra weight or bulk.

By now it was raining properly, so we headed into Aberdeen, to the Queen Vic to watch Ireland beat Scotland and France beat England in the Six Nation Rugby. It was an interesting experience for when the England match was playing there was not a single Frenchman in the pub but nearly everybody was willing France to win.

Afterwards, we slunk out to find somewhere to eat before heading back to Stephen’s house in Cults. An early night was in order after the early start of the morning, but also, there was promise of some good weather in the morning.

The weather was indeed good the following morning, very good. So, where to go?

Leaving snow-free Aberdeen behind, we headed west towards the mountains. As we did so the snow began to appear and accumulate the further we ventured into the mountains. By the time we arrived in Braemar the snow was piled high at the sides of the road where the snowplough had cleared a way.

Armed with crampons and ice axe we were prepared for anything.

We soon started to climb through thin woodland. The snow was about a foot deep and made the going quite tough. The skies were clear and there was not a breath of wind. The exertion of the climb soon had us sweating and wishing there was some slight movement of air.

After some time we rose above the trees on to the open hillside and the white vista opened out all around us. The climb ahead looked steady but there was no sign of the path hidden beneath the deep snow. The only telltale sign of where we should go was a single set of footprints snaking away from us towards the summit at present still hidden from view. Placing my boots into the deep depressions of our predecessor, we climbed at a steady pace, stopping occasionally to appreciate our surroundings and the expansive view across to the Cairngorms.

Most of the time we were walking with our heads down following the footsteps. Imagine our delight when we looked up and saw a beautiful white hare sitting on the snow a short distance from us. After a while he bounded off up the hill with such ease, to then rest while watching us plod up through the snow.

As we neared the summit the gradient eased and so did the snow as much of it had been blown off by the wind.

On the summit, if you ignore the radio mast and accompanying shed, there is a full 360 degree vista across a sea of white mountains. The mast had wonderful snow sculptures within its framework and the building had drifts all the way up to the roof on the windward side. But now there was no wind, not a breath of it. We sat on rocks enjoying our lunch in warm sunshine listening to lumps of snow falling off the radio mast behind us. It was too nice to rush. With the summit to ourselves except for two others who followed us up, there was no desire to leave. So rarely do you have perfectly still days in Scotland, particularly when there is so much snow about, it was an experience to savour. Capercaillie clucked all around us but we’re not always easy to see despite the fact that they were black. When they were among the rocks they were well camouflaged; it was only when they were on snow that they stood out clearly.

We had to leave at some point in time, so when we had absorbed enough of the view, we set off following a rough land rover track that was there to service the radio station. The going was easy until we dropped off the summit ridge into deeper snow, and now we did not have footprints to follow. The track was easier to see as the surface of the snow was smooth, but it was also deeper, making it tough going. For a while we left the track and tried a more direct route down the hill but that proved, after some time to be more tiring with a less predictable surface under the snow. Now we were seeing more and more hare and capercaillie on this more remote and quieter side of the mountain. The tracks in the snow left by the hare were amazing. The distance between each pair of rear prints was enormous, easily nine or ten feet apart.

The descent was taking much longer than expected. We could see our target, the old military road that traversed the mountain back to Braemar, but it didn’t seem to be getting any closer. We had seen the best of the day, for cloud now hung about the summits.

As we we nearing the bottom, the track traversed round a small bluff. We must have been noisier than we thought because suddenly there were about 100 deer running across the track in front of us and off up the hill to our left.

Eventually we reached the old military road, and that is where I encountered the deepest snow. As I stepped on to it from the rough ground beside it, one leg disappeared up to my waist. I had stepped into a roadside ditch. It was a bit of a struggle to pull my leg out without the other sinking into the soft snow to join it. Having freed myself the road was fairly flat but still covered in deep snow until we came to the first farm. Now the road was clear and it was an easy walk back into Braemar.

We had been out on the hill for almost 6 hours. We had not been cold at all, apart from my feet, because my boots seemed to have lost their ability to keep the wet out. We hadn’t needed crampons or ice axe; the conditions had been perfect.

In Braemar we visited The Bothy Cafe for a deserved cup of tea and piece of cake. We had had a super day’s walk, one to remember for a long time to come. As we drove back to Aberdeen we reflected on the day with a great deal of satisfaction.

The following morning, I was up early to catch my flight to Birmingham and was home soon after 9.00am. After such a successful weekend, I can see me doing it again, quite soon.