I am sitting on a sofa with my feet up, next to a log-burning fire, which is crackling away. The view out of the floor-to-ceiling window in front of me is on to a mess of deciduous forest stripped of its colour by winter. Beyond the trees, the main character of the piece, Loch Fyne, shines.
The month is late November, and Scotland’s longest sea loch wears a coating of ice; thin enough to sink a skater but thick enough to colour the reflection of the vermilion sky and the rolling hills beyond. My wife and I are staying here, at Kabn, for a long weekend. It is on the west coast of Scotland, just an hour from Glasgow, yet a world away.
There are two “luxury eco-cabins” made of charred larch, meaning they are black but require no paint. Each looks out on the loch, and neither is in sight of the other.
The interiors are inspired by Japanese minimalism and Scandinavian contemporary design. They are open-plan, with neutral colour tones and warm lights. There is a king-size bed, an en suite with a rainfall shower, and a breakfast bar with every utensil required, plus herbs, spices, oils and coffee. The loch is always in view, a few metres away, across a pebble beach.
The cabins sit just beyond a coast road and viewpoint called the Rest and Be Thankful, and the name of that famous route sets the tone for the ethos here. This is a place for slow living; watching; noticing the colour of the leaves, the movement of the water and the mountainous reflections, which shift with the weather.
My wife is still in bed, and my main pursuits so far today have been starting the log fire, unrolling a yoga mat, which I will not get around to using, and making a V60 coffee pour-over – which, admittedly, I had to watch a YouTube tutorial in order to do. The space is small, and making a coffee becomes an activity in itself – the hand grinder sending the scent upwards, the pause after the pour giving space to look at the loch anew.
Is it all a bit bougie? Undoubtedly. I’m a keen hiker, usually more at home in a cold tent or on the floor of a bothy than in such chic surroundings. But the hot shower in the fancy bathroom with the vegan soap is very nice. And the organic mattress, combined with the duvet and blankets made from recycled plastic bottles, is very comfortable. Besides, who’s here to judge me? I pick up my binoculars (without moving) and find only a distant seal peering back.
We leave the cabin in the afternoon for a low-level walk through the frost-touched Ardkinglas Estate, with clearings revealing the high-rising mountains of the Arrochar Alps behind. We watch a red squirrel scampering around, looking for a snack among the bare forest.
This wider area is renowned for its hiking. One of Scotland’s finest mountains, Ben Arthur (better known as the Cobbler, for its distinctive summit), is very close, but we do not climb it. We do venture to the Fyne Ales brewery for a pint of Jarl, but don’t quite get around to visiting the picturesque town of Inverary nearby, or eating at the Inver restaurant, instead buying ingredients at the Loch Fyne Oyster Bar deli and cooking a meal of our own as the sun sets.
The only downside of a winter visit is missing out on a visit to William Hamer at Wild Kabn Kitchen, a chef who has worked at Michelin-star restaurants and who cooks locally sourced food over open fires when the weather is amenable.
There’s a lot to do here. On this visit, we don’t do much of it. We rest, and are thankful, instead.
Kabn (kabncompany.com) sleeps two, from £230 a night (two-night minimum, dogs welcome 1 July-28 Feb for £50 surcharge)
