Mountaineers, climbers, Munro-baggers and walkers are not alone among visitors to the Scottish Highlands to be interested in the pesky midge. This little book, deservedly a best-seller, is now in its fourth edition. The author is an academic who has made extensive studies on the subject, but the book is written for a general readership rather than as a scientific text.

Here you can learn that there are 35 species of midge found in Scotland (so far), but only a few species bite humans and just one in particular, Culicoides inpunctatus, aka the Highland Midge, is responsible for more than 90% of all bites. The trouble is, there’s an awful lot of them about: one study in Argyll found an estimated half a million emerging from an area of just 4m². You can also learn about their lifecycle, their preferred breeding grounds, how the light level determines their activity, and why a spell of dry weather will reduce their numbers. The author discusses the generally unsuccessful attempts to control midges and on an individual level how to be bitten less.

Hendry also discusses the social and economic impact of the ‘small fly’ on tourism and outdoor activities such as construction and forestry. He argues convincingly that the tourism industry shouldn’t try to pretend the midge problem doesn’t exist but rather that visitors should be advised on the best way of minimising the discomfort they suffer. He further makes the case that the midge, undeniably successful in filling its environmental niche, is a controlling factor in limiting human exploitation of the Highlands and so maintaining its special wilderness qualities.

This book is aimed at anyone who spends time in the Scottish mountains, especially climbers and hillwalkers. The authors of the nine different chapters are themselves hillwalkers, and each is an expert in their own field. Their aim is to increase readers’ awareness of the richness and diversity of the natural environment in the Scottish hills, through chapters ranging from the geology, landforms and climate, through plants, birds and animals (the lowly and the majestic), to the impact of human activity. Read any chapter and unless you are a specialist in that field you are bound to learn many things you didn’t know before. Excellent colour photographs illustrate the text and help with identification, and each chapter is supplemented with an illustrated identification guide.

The great thing is that it works! I read the first few chapters before setting out on the hills recently, and my new-found knowledge definitely meant I got more out of my surroundings. Trudging up a steep grass slope is more enjoyable when you are on the look-out for and can identify different grasses and plants, or you recognise a butterwort and know how it catches and digests its insect prey. The same goes for the geology and landforms around you. So thanks, editors and authors all – a really worthwhile book and strongly recommended.

"Hostile Habitats" is published by the Scottish Mountaineering Trust with support from Scottish National Heritage.

This is really two books in one, part separate and part interwoven. The main book – about three quarters of the whole – recounts the author’s travels up the north-west coast of Scotland. The other book is a handbook of travel advice for Creaky Travelers (“the mobile but not agile”).

Rovetch and his wife travel modestly, covering perhaps 40 miles between each stopover of two or three days. This gives them plenty of time to stop and linger, admire views, talk to people, and soak up atmosphere. Being creaky, they do not go in for long walks, and certainly not uphill. While they lose out by being restricted to easy distances from their car, their meticulous preparation and research mean they make the most of the places they can access. They make sure, too, that they are open to any “serendipitous” encounters which come their way and for which their leisurely pace gives them time.

It is 14 years since this reviewer travelled through the same area. Some things have clearly not changed: the wild and remote scenery, the shifting colours and textures of the landscape, the way the mountains of Assynt rise individually from the surrounding mosaic of moorland and lochans, the self-assured self-reliance of the people who carve a living out of this marginal land. Rovetch appreciates all these, and describes them with warmth and sympathy.

Other things, though, have changed. European Union money has made Lochinver a much more active fishing port. More comfortable and enjoyable places to stay and to eat have opened. Traditional music has grown over a very short time from being an eccentric activity of a small minority into a significant movement. And the people of Assynt were the first to achieve a buy out of “their” land from the landlords whose vast estates cover most of the Scottish Highlands.

These aspects of Highland society are covered at some length. In fact the book deals far more with the people and the culture of the region than the scenery – there are relatively few passages just describing the landscape.

The handbook-within-a-book offers sound advice to less mobile travellers, although even non-Creakies will find plenty of useful tips. Rovetch’s pre-departure research and preparation is particularly impressive. At times, though, the handbook and appendices intrude into the main account, sending the cover-to-cover reader flicking back to see where he or she had read some passage before – a thought, perhaps, for future books in the series.

But overall, Rovetch has shown how much there is to appreciate and enjoy in this corner of Scotland. Travelling with open eyes and ears, mind and heart, he knows that although he is only 600 miles from London he is in a completely different country. North American readers will particularly appreciate his handy “rules of the road” for driving in the Highlands, and discerning travellers everywhere will thank him for daring to speak out against the British catering industry’s shameful abuse of so-called “toast”!