When Gordon suggested we slide headfirst down an icy slope to practice using our ice picks, I’d never have thought I’d be running eagerly back up the slope to have a second go.

We were on our descent from Sgurr Gaoith in the Cairngorms National Park, and I’d only just been reunited with my feet after being unable to see them in the white-out that had enveloped us at the summit. I’d done little but dangle the ice pick from my hands so far, so I suppose it was time we put it to use.

Gordon Birnie, our mountain guide and his son Neil, went first, making a shiny track down the slope. They nimbly spun around, dug their toes in and came to a stop hunched over their ice axe under one shoulder. It felt like being a kid again, doing knee slides, but with the fun of snow, ice and heroic looking gadgets like ice axes and crampons. But this game had a serious point – Gordon was teaching us how to stop in an emergency should we slip and hurtle down an icy slope.

There’d been some tips too on the way up – we learned how to carve snow steps and how to stay stable on steep slopes – to dig our toes in on the way up and our heels on the way down. It wasn’t all about learning winter walking skills though – we’d joined Gordon for the day for a gentle commentary on the local history and wildlife too.

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We’d heard Gordon was the best mountain guide in Scotland, but then I guess his son is a little biased. Inspired by his father’s interest in natural history and his hobby for walking, Neil set up the travel company Wilderness Scotland in 2000 with the aim of offering adventure holidays that have a positive impact on the environment, the community, and on the holidaymaker.

As borderline greenies we like to take a few rail trips in Britain every year as well as the carbon-hefty flights, and we’re huge fans of Scotland, particularly if we go by sleeper train.

There’s something magical about having supper in London, then waking up in Scotland with Highland scenery rushing past the train window. Forget airports and their delays – this is how to bring the romance back to travel. It might not feel that way when you’re deposited, bleary-eyed, onto a chilly station platform at 7am, but by taking the train you get two full days to enjoy Scotland, and are back at your desk on Monday morning without eating into your precious holiday allowance.

We’d taken the sleeper on the Inverness line to Kingussie, a tough little Scottish town in the Cairngorms where neeps and tatties aren’t just eaten by tourists. At the station Neil had bounded up to us and swept us along to the Hermitage Guest House where we had a huge Scottish breakfast of porridge, poached eggs and black pudding – just the boost we needed.

It was hard to believe we were going to be hungry again but Pete, proprietor of the Hermitage, encouraged us to fill our lunch bags from his generous selection – Tunnocks biscuit wafers and all – and I was glad of it later on.

The Cairngorms is Britain’s largest National Park and also boasts the country’s largest area of sub-Arctic landscape. Walking up a peak like Sgurr Gaoith, you enter this Narnia-esque scenery from the valley floor. Deciduous woodland and wide meandering rivers give way to ancient Scots Pine trees and heather as you ascend, then soon you’re shuffling through snow and the only trees are bonsai Scots pine that battle to grow more than a few inches in the harsh conditions.

As we climbed the views became more exceptional – another loch would come into view over a jagged ridge or a tiny house in the distance nestled in isolation on the forested slopes, begging the question, “who lives there?”

I’ve been in snowy mountain environments before but this was spectacular – the snow seemed more pristine and the silence and solitude were breathtaking. It’s hard to believe that any wildlife could exist in these environments, but at the top of one slope a stocky little white bird was squatting in the snow. Gordon explained it was a ptarmigan, a grouse-like bird that changes from brown in the summer to white in winter and has fluffy feet and legs to insulate it against the snow.

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