My birthday trip to Loch Lomond: Staying at Cameron House

From fine dining and princess treatment to travelling with chronic illnesses, my birthday trip to Cameron House at Loch Lomond was certainly an eventful trip.

There’s a pull to Scotland that I can’t quite explain, though my DNA certainly tries to. With my dad’s side of the family hailing from the Highlands, Scotland has always felt like a home from home. A place where the air feels just right and the landscape seems to soothe my soul yet ignite it at the same time. It’s strange isn’t it, how a place you’ve never visited can feel so familiar?

I’d wanted to visit Loch Lomond for so long – in particular, Cameron House. But as my birthday approached, that excitement for my special trip was tangled up with a fair amount of anxiety. It was my first birthday away from home, and if you know me, you know I’m a creature of comfort. I like being at home – candles lit, my dog by my side, and my phone swiped to DND. So combine that with a body that decided to throw a literal riot the week I was due to leave, and you’ve got the recipe for a very tearful packing session.

The grit behind the glamour

I want to be open and honest with you; life isn’t always as rosy as it seems on a well-curated Instagram feed. Shocking, I know. The reality is, sometimes life is driving towards the border while battling a brutal flare-up of POTS, Fibromyalgia, Endometriosis, and ME/CFS  all at once. A cocktail I’d prefer to pass on.

It’s crazy to me how people think they know you based on a few squares on a grid. There’s a persistent, almost lazy assumption that if a woman travels solo, she must be ‘searching’ or ‘single.’ But the reality? Unless you’re in my inner circle, you only see what I choose to curate. Some of the most beautiful connections and most fulfilling parts of my life happen entirely off-camera, and I’m more than happy to keep the best parts of my heart tucked away in private. After all, a solo trip isn’t a lack of company; it’s a choice of frequency – and I’m currently exactly where I’m meant to be, with exactly who I want to be with (even when that person isn’t in the frame).

Dashed dreams and a TENS machine

If you’d seen me in my car, I wasn’t exactly the picture of ‘travel chic.’ I was hooked up to a TENS machine just to make the journey bearable and had a bag full of medicine and electrolytes to hand. I couldn’t eat all day bar a little fruit, and cried as soon as I got to the safety and privacy of my own room as my body hurt so much and the Fibro fog was making it hard to form a coherent sentence.

And the birthday morning I’d imagined? It didn’t involve a slow, cinematic wake-up with a lovely Lush-filled bath and the beautiful breakfast I’d ordered to be delivered to my room. Instead, I spent the early hours on the bathroom floor in agony with my stomach before being sick for the next seven hours. Try as I might, I eventually had to abandon my FaceTime call home I’d scheduled to open cards and gifts because my body simply hit the reject button. (Perhaps it was just as baffled as my mind as to how yet another year had so swiftly gone by in a flash!)

By my last day in bonnie Scotland, my Fibromyalgia pain was so intense that even the fabric of my clothes felt like a personal insult.

Finding my calm at Cameron House

Yet somehow, Scotland worked its magic on me and charmed me into such a happy bubble.

Despite the flares and the TENS pads, Loch Lomond was truly breathtaking. There is a soul-soothing quality to that crystal clear water that seemed to quiet even the most aggressive Fibro fog. But the real highlight? The wonderful people.

For my actual birthday evening, I’d booked a table at LOMA by Graeme Cheevers, a fabulous, intimate restaurant offering the finest of dining mixed with warm Scottish hospitality. And let me tell you, it was something extra special (you can read about my experience here). I had the absolute pleasure of meeting some incredible new friends, tasting the most delicious food and wine, and experiencing the expertise and passion of the wonderful team. Meeting people with that level of craft and passion reminds me why the finer details of life matter so much.

Beyond LOMA, I took full advantage of the stunning surroundings at Cameron House. I spent a cosy afternoon at the Great Scots’ Bar, which was the perfect spot for a coffee and my book. Their impressive whisky collection tempted me into a beautiful Old Fashioned – one of my absolute favourite cocktails. I also found myself at the Cameron Cinema and treated myself to an on-brand ugly cry. Of course, I watched Wuthering Heights.

Princess treatment and my moment of bliss

The birthday magic continued at the fabulous Cameron Grill where I enjoyed a stunning steak dinner to the soundtrack of live piano. I honestly felt like royalty; the princess treatment was everywhere. From the lovely lady who delivered breakfast to my room, to the hotel staff who left a sweet card and cake waiting for me. And the wonderful lady in the gift shop who I chatted away with most days. Even the restaurant team joined in, having the pianist play a special rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’. It was a celebration I’ll treasure for a very long time.

But if I had to pick one of my absolute favourite memories from the whole trip? It was the quiet simplicity of sitting in my bedroom window, looking out over the stillness of Loch Lomond. I spent a few blissful hours working on my fiction while eating a slice of my birthday cake and sipping a hot cup of Earl Grey. It was a moment of pure, uninterrupted peace that felt just as luxurious as the fine dining.

Kindness is free

None of the people I encountered during my stay knew how poorly I felt or the sheer scale of the struggle I was navigating behind closed doors. Yet, their effortless hospitality, genuine friendliness, and quiet care were truly wonderful. It was a beautiful reminder that even when you feel invisible in your pain, kindness has a way of making you feel seen.

Gratitude is the attitude 

It’s a strange thing to hold two truths at once: that a trip can be physically gruelling and undeniably magical. I spent half the time battling my own nervous system and the other half feeling so blissfully content and so very lucky to be there.

I might have been sick on my birthday, and I might have been vibrating with nerve pain by the time we left, but I wouldn’t trade that Scottish air for anything.

Scotland, you have my heart (and clearly, my ancestors’ stubbornness). I’ll be back soon – hopefully with a slightly more cooperative body next time.

Want to stick around a little longer? Read my other blog posts here.