As I arrive on the southern tip of the aptly named Loch Glass, the snow-capped ridge line of Meall Mór is perfectly mirrored in its still waters. “What a day for it,” I say to the only other group of hikers currently in sight in this silent corner of Easter Ross in the Scottish Highlands. “Stunning,” comes the reply, before one of the hikers adds: “So, did you watch the show? The Traitors?”

I reply with a widening smile. “Yes I did.” It’s the reason I’ve ventured up to Loch Glass, home to Culzie Lodge, better known as the Pink House, from my home in Edinburgh. And this group, it turns out, have made the same pilgrimage from Inverness, 26 miles to the south. The Traitors tourism is alive.

For the uninitiated, The Traitors is a reality TV show in which 22 strangers arrive at Ardross Castle, in north-east Scotland, to build a prize pot by completing ludicrous tasks, from carrying comically large whisky casks across a river to digging up teammates who’ve been buried alive.

Among these 22 are three traitors, appointed by the show’s host, Claudia Winkleman. The traitors murder (eliminate) one fellow contestant each night, while the faithfuls get the chance to take vengeance at a grandiose roundtable the following evening, where they try to work out who the traitors are and expel them – usually with sensationally poor results.

The upshot is a tale of hubris, hilarity and machiavellian plotting, where most of the dialogue is either an unfounded accusation, or a surprised exclamation. Looking out on Loch Glass, it all comes back to me. This is the lochside where trainee lawyer Rayan randomly threw up while attempting to set a giant wicker goat on fire. It was here, by the Pink House, that Kieran guessed Loch Ness was the answer to a crucial riddle. Hannah jumped out of a helicopter into these waters, and Meryl considered petting a boar – a dozen of which I now watch playing in the mud.

I loved The Traitors. I loved the premise, the drama, the cast – all of them (but especially 72-year-old Andrea). And more than anything, I loved the setting. So, I decided to catch a train north, to explore the vast, vivid glens and densely forested rivers on show in Easter Ross.

Ardross Castle isn’t open to the public, so I booked myself into Kincraig Castle House (from £88 a night B&B) , where I could still get that stately experience. It may not have had a secret tower where traitors could plot a murder, but it did have a cosy fireplace and a restaurant.

To truly channel The Traitors, though, I needed a quirky mini-game. Not fancying the idea of being buried alive, I called Kurt Connell, of Connell Outdoor Pursuits. Based a little way north, across the Dornoch Firth in Sutherland, he’s one of the first people in the world offering guided night-time wildlife observation tours using thermal imaging technology (£75pp).

What the tour involves, in practice, is climbing into Connell’s truck and driving around, while using a joystick in the car to direct the night vision camera on the roof – the feed of which we then watch on a display screen in the car. We head out to see what lurks in the dark around Ardross, keeping one eye on the road, and the other on our feed, for local wildlife.

“You see a real difference in the behaviour of animals at night,” says Kurt, “when they’re not aware that you’re watching them.”

Indeed, fields that appeared empty during the day come alive with thermal colours. We watch rabbits and hares, bushy-tailed foxes, sika and roe deer, and herds of red deer, including stags. The outing is unique, combining the wonder and suspense of wildlife watching with the childlike fun of a video game, the joystick transforming the dark into a living world. The tours run from September to May, and are unaffected by weather – the perfect off-season adventure.

The next day, I visit Invergordon, a five-minute drive east of Alness, and walk the bright Invergordon Mural Trail on the high street. The coast of Invergordon is dominated by industry – cruise docks and oil rigs – but further east the Pictish Trail runs along the picturesque Easter Ross peninsula, passing ancient stones intricately carved by the Picts.

I grab lunch at the community-owned Seaboard Centre, then head to the lighthouse at Tarbet Ness to look out over the Moray Firth and Dornoch Firth, in the hope of spotting dolphins.

There’s also a wealth of whisky connections here. Dornoch Castle Hotel (doubles from £120 B&B) is home to one of the world’s top-rated whisky bars. The area is on the North Coast 500 route, but most visitors drive straight through, stopping only for a distillery tour at Glenmorangie, or at Dalmore back in Alness, without exploring the boundless beauty in the backcountry beyond.

When I shift my base to Alness, I stay at the Station Hotel (doubles from £64 room only), a cosy community-run spot on the high street. The town sits on the edge of River Averon, which winds for 11 miles from Loch Morie, past Ardross Castle to the Cromarty Firth. It’s a salmon river lined with dense forest, which makes for picturesque walking.

I enjoy breakfast at Dalmore Farmhouse before heading up into the hills. There are various great walks here, not least the two-hour out-and-back to the Fyrish Monument – three stone battlement arches set atop a 450-metre hill – but my focus is firmly on reaching Loch Glass. I get a taxi to Eileanach Lodge, on a road with more twists and turns than the episode six roundtable session, and stroll through snow-sprinkled forests to the still, reflective loch.

The Pink House juts out into the water, flanked on one side by the Novar windfarm and Meall Mór, and on the other by the sublime swell of Ben Wyvis, which rises like a rocky wave to its 1,046-metre summit. I fall entirely in love with the landscape.

My walk back to civilisation takes several hours, passing through forests dotted with deer and derelict bothies, finally following the otherworldly curves of the Black Rock Gorge – itself a Harry Potter film location – back to Evanton, where I catch the 25 bus back to Alness for lunch. If you end up visiting, do treat yourself to a Harry Gow Tattie Pie. I’ll call that my parting gift.