Every morning, when I woke up on the Island of Danna, I looked out of the bedroom window in amazement. If I lived there for years, I don't think I'd get used to the view of the waters of Loch na Cille, a few metres from the cottage. Sometimes they lapped peacefully at the shore, while at others they charged furiously up the channel between our island and the next peninsula, beyond which the Paps of Jura were occasionally visible. Every morning I scanned the water for the otters we'd been promised by the cottage's owner, Miss Pollock. They must be the shyest otters in Scotland.

James and I decided months ago that we would spend a low-key New Year in a remote corner of the British Isles. It occurred to us that a cottage would be much cheaper and more fun than any hotel. Extensive enquiries among everyone we knew produced three other takers: Charlotte from London, Neil from Newcastle, and Jeff from New York. We searched the internet for properties and were surprised at the vast array of websites out there. The best site, in our opinion, was run by Country Holidays; it let us put in requests such as 'open fire', then listed page after page of gorgeous looking houses. We settled on one near Ullapool.

It was not, however, as straightforward as we'd hoped: the day before our departure, we suddenly had to choose a different Country Holidays cottage, because the whole country except for our hometown, Brighton, was covered in snow, and the people who had spent Christmas in our original choice had (opportunistically, in our opinion) declared themselves unable to leave.

Thus we arrived, on a crisp and snowy Saturday, on the Island of Danna. It is not a place that should be anybody's second choice. From Glasgow, the drive was spectacular, skirting Loch Lomond and Loch Fyne before meandering through the village of Tayvallich and over a causeway.

'There'll be a ceilidh tomorrow night,' Miss Pollock told us, (she was surely Judi Dench's twin sister). 'I don't expect anyone would mind if you came. Just ask in the pub whose house it's at, and bring plenty of bottles.' The idea of celebrating Hogmanay at someone else's house when we weren't really invited, and the roads were icy and any expedition meant that one of us couldn't drink, was not, ultimately, as appealing as staying in making our own entertainment; which we did in some style, thanks to six magnums of champagne left over from James's brother's wedding, and a roaring fire.

Despite good intentions, we began the New Year with a day of collective televisual sloth. We had a brief moment of self-awareness when Charlotte pointed out that we were slumped indoors on a beautiful Scottish island, watching people leaving a beautiful Scottish island, and marvelling at how beautiful it was. Looking out of the window would have been more effective. Jeff received a thorough grounding in British television, and for the rest of the week impressed us by saying things like 'Isn't that Judy Finnegan?' and, 'How did Mark Fowler get HIV?' We, in return, emerged depressingly well-informed about the iniquities and the corruption of the American election.

Once the hangovers wore off, there was an immense amount of sightseeing to be done. Kilmartin Glen was nearby, with its standing stones and ruined castles. Skies were often blue. The fresh air hit our lungs and made us happy, and having an American on hand ensured that we appreciated how old everything was (and also led us to visit numerous establishments that offered fish and chips). One day we drove to Oban and caught a boat to Mull and then to Iona, where we saw John Smith's grave. The abbey and the ruined nunnery alone were worth the holiday, and the sense of isolation was tempered only slightly by the fact that we were far from the only tourists on the boat.

We left Danna sadly, a bit calmer, and a lot fatter. As well as seeing in the New Year in some sort of style, we'd remained friends throughout. The only thing I could have asked for would have been the briefest glimpse of an otter.

• The Country Holidays website is at www.country-holidays.co.uk. Miss Pollock's cottage's reference number is 6775