Every place looks better in the sun but especially Aberdeen. Dubbed “granite city”, dark grey buildings against a dark grey sky make it seem very dull. Against a blue sky, however, the granite blocks glitter, accentuating every other colour and making the tree-lined streets look surreally bright.

I appreciated the sunny sky as we wandered into town and enjoyed a chilled Saturday morning before heading out to the Cairngorms. It’s about an hour’s drive from Aberdeen, through vast, open countryside. The cattle and sheep fields sprawl out over the long, low hills as if the land goes on forever, buildings are few and far between, and there’s a general sense of spaciousness that makes the countryside of southern England seem very cramped.

The plateau of the Cairngorms rose up from the horizon, giving a dramatic, snow-capped backdrop to the wide, lush valley with its shallow salmon rivers and dark patches of forest. We drove into the national park and found the Pass of Ballater car park after a quick look at the UKC crag map. It’s a beautifully self-contained valley with steep sides made of scrambley forest sections and climbable rock faces, and we scrabbled our ungainly way up the steep northern bank to a vertical slab.

We lacked a guidebook so finding a [doable] climb was a stab in the dark. Luckily we soon came across chalk marks on what turned out to be (thanks to another group’s book) an HVS 5a called Original Route. I led it with some difficulty – getting off the ground was tough and protection at the awkward top section was sparse – and was relieved to find a nice tree belay at the top.

It was one of those days where “we” felt a bit fluffy, so we were happy to spend the rest of the afternoon messing around – chatting to other climbers, bouldering and staring transfixed over the magnificent forest on the opposite side of the pass, which was alive with an incredible mix of trees. I’ve never seen so many shades of green, and the branches seemed to whisper to each other as they brushed together in the breeze. The snow-capped peak of Lochnagar rose in the distance at one end of the pass, and the open valley swept across the landscape at the other end. Perfect, humanless tranquillity.

We tore ourselves away in time to nip into Ballater and grab a Balmoral loaf from Chalmers bakery as recommended by another climber. Set nestled among mountains and forests, Ballater has a timeless, fairytale-like feel, with its pretty buildings, grassy square and clean, colourful, tree-lined streets.

Carb-loaded and content, we headed back to Aberdeen in time to catch the rugby and spent the evening testing a few pubs. I can’t share the detail as I don’t know it, but the next morning we were fragile enough that we woke up late and had to cut three munros out of our planned hiking route…