Scotland’s Scenic North Coast 500: A Drive to Remember—And a Lesson in Planning

As a seasoned traveler who’s seen more than a few miles of tarmac under the wheels of my rented red convertibles, I must confess that the North Coast 500 left an indelible mark on me. This picturesque Scottish route, with its 516-mile loop around the northernmost reaches of the country, is nothing short of breathtaking (northcoast500.com) – that is, if you manage to find a petrol station when you need one!

I seldom share this tale, as it paints me in an unfavorable light. However, if the breathtaking landscapes featured in Britain’s Most Beautiful Road, airing its final episode this week on Channel 4, have sparked your curiosity and inspired you to traverse that route personally, there’s a crucial piece of information I feel compelled to share with you before you embark on your journey.

Experiencing the breathtaking North Coast 500 scenic route in Scotland, stretching over a 516-mile loop (northcoast500.com), is truly amazing. However, be cautious about gas stations – or should I say their scarcity – and their quirky habit of closing on Sundays. Trust me, it’s quite an awkward situation when you have to call roadside assistance after your rented red convertible BMW runs out of fuel.

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When not finding it a source of ridicule, I’m extremely thankful for the electric roof on my car: the weather, as I embark on the A9 from Inverness, is like something straight out of the Scotland I-Spy Book, switching between ominous, stormy clouds and bright, sunny intervals reminiscent of McDonald’s yellow. The road seems to echo as it runs nearly next to the sea, taking me through quiet villages that were once thriving due to the herring industry, before venturing inland to witness the two Grey Cairns of Camster.

Scotland’s Scenic North Coast 500: A Drive to Remember—And a Lesson in Planning

Image: The Castle of Mey, loved by the Queen’s mother

Up close, these 5000-year-old tombs appear as small stone piles reminiscent of cottages from afar, yet they hold an eerie charm upon closer inspection. As I approach, the ominous silence makes my nerves jangle before I pass through the gate. Inside, the wind roars and the chill sends shivers down my spine as I stand in the central chamber. Though I attempt to attribute it to the strenuous crawl through the low entrance tunnel, I can’t fully convince myself that this is the cause of the unsettling sensation.

Thirty minutes and a few epochs down the road lies John o’ Groats: arguably one of the least eerie places I’ve visited. It features a parking lot, a souvenir shop, and a man who charges £10 to snap your photo next to a signpost – quite an experience for what is only the fourth most northerly point on the UK mainland. Just around the bend, however, you’ll find a magnificent, windy 40-minute walk leading to the Stacks of Duncansby. Here, the envious sea relentlessly carves away at the fortress-like cliffs of Britain, and the Stacks themselves – two towers of ancient sandstone – stand like sentinels, reminiscent of the Coldstream Guards.

For a while, I take in the glistening seals’ heads basking in the sun, then head westward. My car hums proudly past the Castle of Mey, a whimsical Highland castle once owned by the late Queen Mother (castleofmey.org.uk). The unique spherical shape of Dounreay nuclear power station passes by, designed to implode rather than explode. I park for the night among Land Rovers at Forss House Hotel, a 19th-century manor house, where I savor the finest scallops I’ve ever tasted, shipped in from Orkney just across the Pentland Firth (forsshousehotel.co.uk)).

The following day, the hotel arranges a fly fishing excursion (since it’s a place that offers such activities). Unfortunately, I don’t manage to catch anything, but standing waist-deep in a loch with the curlews serenading you beneath an expansive blue sky creates a marvelous sensation of immersing oneself in nature rather than merely observing it.

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I travel beyond Caithness and venture into Sutherland, a region boasting Europe’s lowest population density – where, unavoidably, I exhaust my petrol supply. However, after refueling and feeling slightly more humble as I pass tractors, I enjoy the perks of this seclusion: deserted roads, tranquil sea-lochs, and arguably the most pristine beach on earth. This unnamed expanse on my OS map (adjacent to a landmark called Tràigh Allt Chailgeag) features a vast, gradual slope of soft sand leading into impressive waves, picturesque streams, rocky cliffs perfect for playgrounds – and absolutely no other visitors except for the adorable rabbits.

As it happens, there are multiple similar places nearby. In the town of Durness, about a couple of kilometers to the west, you’ll find a sign directing to “Sandy Beach” in three different directions. I stayed for the night at Mackay’s Rooms, an exquisite, deluxe bed and breakfast (visitdurness.com/mackays-collection/the-rooms)).

The following day, I embark on a one-mile journey towards Smoo, a sea cave that dwarfs many of the hamlets I’ve passed by car over the weekend. Then, I commence my lengthy drive southwards to Inverness. Unfortunately, my travel itinerary seems poorly planned as I discover that the western coast offers the most breathtaking scenery, and now I find myself hurriedly experiencing it.

The drive should take about three hours, and I’ve got seven – but four hours for dawdling and stopping feels like a dash when you’re driving down one of the world’s most spectacular seaboards. The road flirts with a hundred lochs and bays and inlets, and crosses just as many rivers and streams and burns. Snowcapped mountains loom, waterfalls rumble, sheep graze, ghosts haunt ruined castles, minke whales navigate the sea-lochs and the road winds on, infinitely inviting.

Every time the “low fuel” indicator on my car lights up, I choose to disregard it. However, if I end up running out of gas again, I understand that I’ll be forced to spend another night somewhere.

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2024-09-26 19:41

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