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Boarding Scottish Highlander at her mooring in Inverness I’m immediately struck by her enormous presence. At over 35 metres, this Dutch-built Luxemotor barge is eight times longer than my car. Renovated two years ago, her white-painted living quarters dazzle in the afternoon sun, above a blue and black hull. Our journey: a cruise along Scotland’s historic Great Glen, along the way taking in lochs, rivers, misty woods and romantic castles.

The Great Glen formed millions of years ago from massive fracture movements of the earth’s crust. Huge glaciers and meltwater carved out the deep trough of the glen some 20,000 years ago. As they retreated the glaciers deposited rocks and debris which formed the system of rivers and lochs stretching from Inverness in the east to Fort William in the west.

The Caledonian Canal was engineered to provide shipping with a sheltered alternative to voyaging around the stormy Scottish coast. With the natural rivers too shallow for traffic, cuttings were dug to link the chain of four lochs. The Caledonian Canal was completed in 1822 although cargo ships long ago outgrew its capacity, and it is now the preserve of recreational traffic.

Scottish Highlander feels more like a plush hotel than a barge. Her large saloon / dining room is fitted in yew and mahogany set off with tartan furnishings. The bar bulges with single malt whiskies. Antique fishing rods, golf clubs and prints of country scenes complete the country house effect. With four crew and accommodating only eight passengers in four spacious wood-panelled cabins, she feels cosy but never crowded.

Our captain Duncan fires up the engine and we ease away for a short afternoon cruise. We travel along a man-made section of the canal bordered by bluebells and bright yellow broom. On the other side of a grassy bank the River Ness quietly shadows our progress. We moor at Dochgarroch, a tiny village with little more than a lock, part-time post office and tea room. We’re met here by Murdo a sprightly bagpiper who plays for us on the foredeck. During a break for a “wee dram”, Murdo recounts his two encounters with Nessie, the Loch Ness Monster.

Loch Ness is the largest body of freshwater in Britain, containing more water than all the lakes and reservoirs in England and Wales combined. Its mysterious depths become totally dark just metres beneath the surface due to high peat levels. At an average depth of 132 m, these blackened waters provide Nessie with plenty of room to avoid detection.

We cruise along Loch Ness at a sedate 4 knots and encounter little other traffic. Evocative Celtic music plays in the saloon. The steep, densely forested valley sides plunge into the loch’s murky waters. Isolated houses appear at intervals. Heather and rhododendrons carpet areas of open country. Sheep graze quietly in clearings.

With well-timed use of local buses Neil, our guide and deckhand, “hopscotches” our backup Land Rover to our nightly moorings. Having use of the vehicle allows us to visit Cawdor Castle, setting of Shakespeare’s “Macbeth”, the poignant Culloden battlefield where Bonnie Prince Charlie’s Jacobite Rebellion was finally quashed and Eilean Doonan Castle, magnificent setting for the film “Highlander”. Such trips give us a better understanding of our Highland surroundings although the real delights of the trip take place on board.

By late afternoon on the second day we reach the lonely bay at the ruins of Urquhart Castle. Standing proudly on an isolated promontory, this 13th century stronghold once commanded the whole upper part of the Great Glen. We drop anchor in 10 metres of water but just a little further out into the bay the bottom plummets dramatically to over 200 metres. These are some of the deepest waters in Loch Ness. Duncan explains: “Basically, we’re sitting on the edge of a cliff.”

The sun starts to set and the last visitors begin leaving the castle. A few are enjoying one last look over the loch from the visitor centre high above our mooring. There’s little doubt they’d prefer to be where we were.

At such high latitudes, the summer sun doesn’t set until late. It’s well worth the wait. As the sky eventually darkens, spotlights illuminate the walls of the forlorn castle. The loch surface is totally calm. Even by day and sharing the experience with coachloads of other visitors, Urquhart Castle stirs the soul. Now deserted and lit up against the evening sky, the experience is magical - and we have it all to ourselves. Well worth celebrating with a “wee dram” or five!

Continuing our stately passage next morning to Fort Augustus at the end of Loch Ness, we encounter the first of the lock systems we need to negotiate. Piloting the barge has so far looked fairly straightforward and it’s only now we fully appreciate how much skill is required. We join Duncan astern in the wheelhouse and watch as he carefully manoeuvres into the first of the five locks. Scottish Highlander is propelled totally from the stern and Duncan likens piloting the barge to pushing a pencil with your finger. Any misjudgement here and this 350 tonne pencil could easily punch a hole through the lock gates.

Travelling through locks is a sociable activity which attracts large crowds, particularly when a vessel as large as ours arrives. Duncan engages in friendly banter with the good-humoured lockkeepers and offers them tea and cake. Small craft tie up to us in our capacity as a giant stable pier. In this way we make friends with a happy Scottish couple sailing the “Laughing Water” and greet them as old friends when we meet again at subsequent locks.

We moor for the night at the top of the locks. Once the sun sets and the day trippers have left, all is still in Fort Augustus. We stroll along the towpath to a curious golf course grazed by a flock of sheep - hitting one qualifies for a free ball! After dinner we join the crew in a cosy lockside inn where we spend the rest of the evening.

Next day we cruise through a narrow tree-lined channel. Ancient tracks and footpaths weave between the remains of a railway track. We’re in Loch Oich, the smallest, highest and shallowest loch in the canal. With its peaceful seclusion and intimate, wooded shores, it’s probably also the most picturesque.

We drop anchor by a tiny, secluded island. We go ashore by dinghy at a pretty stone jetty surrounded by dense trees and rhododendron bushes. To either side are enchanting woodland walks along the shore. The narrow paths are totally overhung by the branches of moss-covered trees and eventually open onto sheep pastures dominated by towering Scots Pines. Nearby, the ruins of Invergarry Castle peek out over the dense woods. We enjoy a delightful afternoon tea at the elegant Invergarry Castle hotel and, for the first time, don’t rush to return to our barge.

We’ve already grown accustomed to the finest dining on board but, almost in recognition of the shore-based competition this evening, dinner at Invergarry is particularly special. Tonight we feast on plump langoustines and the tenderest beef. As the coffee and single malt is passed around, I look out of the window at the faint lights on the shore. Tempting though it is, the Invergarry Castle will have to wait until next time. On balance, I still prefer to be aboard Scottish Highlander.

The pace of life is intentionally sedate. We fall into a daily routine of lazy breakfasts, shore visits, gentle cruising and candlelit suppers. Convivial night-time chats extend until the first traces of sunrise. We keep a look out for friends’ boats and chat to lockkeepers but for most of the time we’re cocooned in our comfortable, private world.

My final night on board is spent moored at the pretty hamlet of Gairlochy with its pristine lock. Ahead of us lies the eight locks of the Neptune’s Staircase, a short cruise away. It rains for much of the evening and our view of Ben Nevis, Scotland’s highest mountain, is shrouded behind dense clouds. As always we have alternative pleasures to enjoy: aperitifs in fine company followed by sea bass for dinner. After coffee, the skies clear and the clouds respectfully lift to reveal the soft, peach-hued evening light shedding its fading rays on Ben Nevis’s face. The honour of this rare sight is a fitting finale to our time aboard Scottish Highlander.

The unhurried cruising and shore visits give our trip the feel of a lengthy expedition. Yet, it takes only a couple of hours to drive the distance we cruised in a week. I was trying to follow the football World Cup when I began the cruise but the Great Glen had other ideas and smothered all radio contact with the barge. Rather than get agitated, I soon forgot all about the football. Such is the calming effect of life aboard Scottish Highlander. By the end of the cruise all I care about is how I will ever be able to replicate the evenings at Urquhart and Glengarry. I’m not sure I ever will.

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