Picture the scene: a bright blue sea which turns gradually turquoise as it laps upon a vast vanilla beach framed by hills.

Adverts for heavenly, far-flung beachscapes are everywhere at the moment but paradise is closer than many of us acknowledge.

The top ten beaches in Europe, as compiled from travellers' reviews on TripAdvisor, includes Luskentyre on the isle of Harris.

To any one who has every holidayed on the Western Isles this comes as no surprise, in fact, why just the one?

One of our most memorable holidays was a cycling break around Skye, the Uists and Barra. I can still remember scrabbling up a grassy knoll on the west coast of Uist and peeking over to discover an expansive white beach - like a Carribean scene - with not a soul on it.

Another memory is of sunbathing on the stunning beach on Vatersay, south of Barra, under a cloudless sky watching a herd of cattle paddling in the sea.

True, for every idyllic day lounging on the sand, there was a day of hard slog on the bikes, but that brought its own satisfaction.

We certainly earned our supper on the day we tackled the 30 mile trip from downtown Portree on Skye to the western port of Uig. It lashed down from dawn and we spent the entire day playing leapfrog along the main road with a chartered coach tour.

While they stopped off at various points to take pictures and enjoy tea and scones we continued the slow slog in the saddle. We became such a familiar sight to them that each time they overtook us, a crowd gathered at the back window to cheer us on.

Also on that day we suffered a puncture (repaired by a kind B&B owner whose wife fed us cake), a storm of hailstones (in June!), my husband being blown right off his bike by a gust of wind and my existential crisis when I lost feeling in my limbs.

Around 6pm, we took refuge in a glass bus stop and stood trembling as stripped to our smalls and put on the only set of clothes from our rucksack which had not been soaked. I'll never forget removing a trainer and emptying out 200 mls of rainwater.

Through tears, we pressed on to our destination - the youth hostel - and after arriving late in the evening we staggered like saddle-sore cowboys to the nearby Uig hotel where we enjoyed a meal so sumptuous I still wonder if it was a hallucination. Best holiday ever.