Walking holidays have a worthy sound. They have none of the party hedonism of the beach, none of the braininess of a cultural trip and none of the ‘I’m so busy and important I only have time for a 48-hour city break’. They are what they say: you go somewhere, walk about for a few days and that’s pretty much it.

Except it isn’t, it’s so much more, as I discovered when I went on a week’s walking to Skye. In our busy world, walking is about the only thing we do at the pace we were designed to do it. Information pours at us from all sides. Phones ring, emails ping, everyone’s on Facebook. It never stops.

A walking holiday switches all that off in an instant. There’s a guide, a map, some people you’ve never met before, and a day stretching ahead of you.

Along the way there are some fantastic views, silence you’d forgotten existed, and– eventually– a few pints before bed.

This was only my second time in the wilds of Scotland and I’m addicted. We drove up from Edinburgh, which takes about five hours plus, because you have to go round so many lochs on the way.

At first this bothered me but I quickly realised that the journey’s the thing. It’s not all about motorways and getting where you need to be in the minimum time. It’s about taking it slowly, having a laugh, watching the clouds drift and the views change.

The crossing point is the Kyle of Lochalsh. There’s a bridge now so you’re over in a couple of minutes, and as we arrived the sun came out. The previous week had been dreadful, with severe weather warnings, torrential rain, wind and hail, but we were blessed.

Day after day we opened the curtains to cloudless blue. So much for the thermals, fleeces and hats we’d packed. It was sunblock and T-shirts all the way.

Skye is basically volcanic rock scoured by Atlantic gales. The Black Cuillins are made of hard stuff, resulting in fantastic crags that loom over the valleys, whereas the Red Cuillins are softer and have weathered into gentler, rounder shapes.

Both are a type of granite, which is very rough and easy to grip, making the Cuillins a magnet for rock climbers. They all looked very hardy marching along the path with their ropes and helmets; we nodded them past and finished our flapjacks.

In this landscape you start recalling geography facts you never knew you knew. Huge boulders are scattered across fields, dumped by glaciers. Fantastic rock formations leave scary overhangs. Great chunks of land, like the Table in the Quirang (pronounced ‘Kerrang’), have simply broken off and slid down the hill.

Despite its small size, Skye has a surprisingly varied terrain, from easy coastal wanders to scrambles up slopes and breathtaking mountain views. This means you can pick and choose– depending on your mood and the state of your legs.

On the Wednesday we felt energetic enough to try Corrie Lagan. We scrambled over the lip of the crater and had a picnic by the loch, watching crazy hardcore climbers slither down the Stone Chute from the crags to the loch– a perilously steep descent over loose scree that can only be done at a run.

After three days of uninterrupted sunshine, I staggered off the hills with a headache and feeling sick– sunstroke! In Scotland! But a couple of paracetamol and some ice cream soon perked me up.

The next day we took it easy so we caught a boat, the Bella Jane, from Elgol past basking seals across to Loch Corruisk– a stunning lake in the heart of the Cuillins.

It was a boggy walk, even after days of sun and wind, so we were happy to stop and paddle in the loch instead before getting the boat back a couple of hours later.

One of the great advantages of walking is that you have to eat a lot, so we milled into local dishes: haggis, salmon, spuds, turnip and venison stew, washed down with Red Cuillin, a local beer. And if I had to choose one place to eat every night for a week, it would be Café Arriba in Portree.Their thinking is simple: delicious food, made fresh every day, with four meat and four veggie options. The helpings are huge, the staff fantastic, the atmosphere relaxed and the bill very reasonable.

After a week of good food, good beer, long walks and deep sleep, my batteries were recharged. And even still, when life gets too much, I know I can just close my eyes, dream of Skye, and escape– if only for a while.

View across to the Hebrides and, right, the Black Cuillins.