One of the most unexpected things that happened to me last year occurred on a sunny September day, when Lorna and I had a day out.

We headed north from our home in Blairgowrie, not sure where we would end up, but interested to see where the car might take us. We drove up the A93 towards Braemar in search of morning coffee and saw a sign advertising Dalmunzie Castle Hotel. Rather unusually, in addition to offering lunches and dinners to non-residents, the sign specifically mentioned morning coffees. We pulled off the road and drove slowly up a long, private driveway to the castle.

The building sat in a quiet and sheltered glen, and the sun was shining magnificently from a blue sky. We parked the car and entered the castle through a heavy wooden door. Inside, we found a comfortable lounge area, settled ourselves in and ordered coffee and tea, which came with delicious home-made shortbread biscuits.

Happily refreshed, we continued our journey north. As we climbed up into the mountains, we passed the Glenshee ski centre, and noticed that although there was no snow at that time of year, the chairlift was operating. Lorna suggested it would be fun to get on the chairlift and go up the mountain, but I quickly reminded her that at my great age of 94, such an escapade held no attraction for me. I said I would wait if she wanted to go up on her own, but she wasn’t interested in that and we drove on. After a minute or two it occurred to me that if I had headgear that wouldn’t blow off, I could be persuaded to go up on the chairlift, and I said so to Lorna. The floppy-brimmed sunhats we had in the car didn’t seem suitable, but we had the idea of looking for a new hat in Braemar.

When we reached Braemar we went into a gift shop that also happened to have an impressive array of hats. I was drawn to several hats with brims of various sizes, but none of them seemed quite right. After much trying on, we found a hat of a different sort that looked as if it might be just the job. It went well with the outfit I had on and seemed to be the perfect purchase, so we bought it.

Thus suitably attired, I felt ready to head back down to Glenshee and hop on the chairlift. It was a first for both of us to go on a chairlift, and it wasn’t until she was several metres above the ground that Lorna remembered she had a fear of heights. She gripped the handrail tightly and I did my best to assure her that all was well. As we rose up the mountainside, the wind increased considerably. I held on to my hat to prevent it from flying off. Fortunately, it was a nice tight fit.

After being helped off the moving chairs by an assistant, we staggered to a viewpoint where I was glad to sit down and take in the magnificent views.

We stayed up there until our hands became numb in the cold wind. We were glad to get back on the chairlift and enjoy the shelter of the mountainside as we came down. The views were wonderful.

Having overcome her initial terrors, Lorna declared she’d happily do it all again, but we agreed to keep that for another occasion. We spent the rest of the day feeling surprised and delighted by our unexpected mountain adventure, and it has provided happy memories for us both ever since.