Scotland and the North Coast 500 - Part One
Last Updated: June 23, 2026
WELCOME TO SCOTLAND AND THE NORTH COAST 500
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First off, our opinions differ on how bits of this trip went! So you can keep track of who's saying what, we'll split a lot of this into sections written specifically by one of us, and let you know who's writing. So, without further ado...
So what is the North Coast 500, and why did we go?
Last September, Greg finally fulfilled a long-term ambition of his: buy a Volkswagen van. The best reason he can give for this is "They're so cool!", which I guess you can't argue with. And so along came the big white beast, soon kitted out with a sofa-bed in the back and some boxes to keep stuff in, ready to take on the world. All we needed was somewhere to take it.
We had both heard of a driving route around the north coast of Scotland, Greg hearing it at BusFest and Charlie watching the Grand Tour, called the North Coast 500. The NC500 was 'invented' in 2015 (not that they actually created anything, they just drew a line around Scotland using roads that have been there for years, and started promoting it), and having seen some of the pictures and footage, it was just what we were looking for - a tour around the most spectacular parts of the Scottish Highlands.
Scotland has a wild camping law, meaning you can park up and camp anywhere you see fit free of charge. Not only that, but we (yes we, little tiny Far Out Travel) had been invited to a hotel launch party in Edinburgh, thanks to Point A's newest hotel.
Both of us have always considered ourselves good drivers. It's in our blood, and driving is something we have both always enjoyed (except on Sundays. Sunday driving in England is never enjoyable, everyone seems to drive 20mph everywhere, we mean everywhere: motorways, across roundabouts, through red lights, everywhere.). So one evening, we sat down together over a couple of whiskies and came up with a plan...
We had the van, and needed a destination. It had to have the open roads, scenery, and a story to tell. Instantly we thought of Route 66, the Great Ocean Road, and Bolivia's 'Death Road', all of which sounded very exciting, but sadly a little out of our range. However, Greg had already done the Great Ocean Road and a couple of other highways around the US of A, and not only that, but we wanted to show off our own country. The UK has some famously beautiful scenery, full of history and beauty, and we were both guilty of not seeing much of it, choosing instead to head off abroad. Plans were made, research done, and so it was that on a warm July evening, Greg picked Charlie up, we stayed at Greg's, and the next morning hit the road.
Day 1 - Bristol to Edinburgh
We woke up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed early on a hot sunny morning in July, headed off to Lidl and picked up supplies, filled the girl up with fuel, and hit the motorway. We headed north for hours, and the dull motorway miles were only broken up by the sudden thunderous sound of two RAF Hawks trying to blow someone's eardrum less than 100 metres overhead. The sun shone the whole way through England, until, honest to God, the moment we touched the Scottish border, at which point the sun gave way to a truly epic 5-minute rainstorm. It was like a horror movie intro. Welcome to Scotland.
We soon made it to the border town of Gretna Green, famed for its low marriage age and tacky 'Welcome to Scotland' paraphernalia. Luckily for us, there was no church service required today (so no photos of Greg in a dress, sorry ladies). Today Gretna Green was purely being used by us for a pit stop, stretch of the legs, an overpriced cup of tea, and a tacky souvenir stop for Greg to find something for his fabled Shit Shelf. We looked around, realised it was a total tourist trap with one blacksmithy and not much else, and soon bailed.
A spectacular drive across the lowlands followed, and we soon arrived in Edinburgh at 18:45, hungry and tired. We found a delightful little pub called The Steading on the outskirts and then spent the night in the van, revitalising our weary bodies ready to explore the city.
Day 2 - Edinburgh and the Launch Party
We woke up early, and after a relaxing breakfast and a cuppa, we made our way into the city. Having both heard so many good things about Edinburgh's beauty and history, it was somewhere we were excited to see. The Fringe Festival was starting, and the town was going to be buzzing!
We bravely started our morning with a climb of Salisbury Crags, one of many rocky outcrops looking over Edinburgh. As we took in the views over the vast city, with Holyrood House and the Scottish Parliament building directly below us, it's fair to say we were both impressed at its beauty. The staggering Edinburgh Castle sat proudly in the backdrop, and a wealth of varied, ancient architecture could be seen sporadically dotted across the city, glowing in the morning sun.
Next followed a tour of Scottish Parliament (completely free, as long as parliament isn't in session), which honestly was kind of underwhelming, a load of chairs, a lot of concrete, and a few art exhibits outside the chamber. The best thing about it was the police patdown before you go in - now that was very thorough!.
A quick look into visiting 'Nicola Sturgeon's Gaff', Holyrood House, quickly came to an end when we found it'd cost £15 a-head, which to go look around a house already having tax money shovelled into it, presumably off a conveyor belt, felt like daylight robbery! Instead, we contented ourselves with having a small bitch outside with a jaded Irishman. Although we will say the public toilet outside was pretty flashy and immaculate, so, if you ever read this Ms. Sturgeon: loving your work there.
Next, we had our first full 'Trainspotting' experience, as some miserable soul threatened to "have us lifted" for parking in 'his' parking space as we visited the truly exquisite Calton Hill, a collection of monuments from where we shot some of our most beautiful photos of the city.
Whilst we can both praise the city from the hilltops, we both agreed that once down in the city walls, touring the castle and the surrounding areas just felt fake. The city tries so hard to appear Scottish it becomes a caricature of itself, everywhere so desperate to appeal to the tourists that there's no soul left in it, none of what made it special in the first place. Edinburgh Castle would have been pretty if it wasn't for the several thousand other people being shoehorned into its walls, making it feel small and cramped. Touring around Scotland, there are so many better, emptier castles that you are truly wasting your time here, not to mention your money: at £19.50 a-go you might as well jump on the luggage belt at a local airport, you'll get much the same experience, and that's free.
We readily admit one day is not enough time to explore a city, and maybe it's our fault for heading to the touristy areas. We both found Edinburgh achingly beautiful and were so desperate to love it, but we just didn't.
Luckily, we had something in the pipeline to cheer us up: a room and launch party waiting for us at Point A's* latest hotel in Edinburgh, located on the Haymarket right in the heart of the city. Having previously stayed in Point A hotels in London, we knew what to expect when it came to the friendly staff, the design, feel and comfort.
Point A had pulled out all the stops once again, with some of the friendliest front of house staff either of us had ever come across. Every single person made so much effort to maximise our levels of enjoyment throughout our stay, it was a true pleasure meeting them all.
Our twin room had comfortable beds, plenty of space to walk about and Point A's brilliant colour-changing lights (which naturally we set to red once it got dark and let the world think we're back in Amsterdam). There are enough plug sockets for Inspector Gadget and his family, but unfortunately not next to both of the beds - the one by the window had none and so Charlie couldn't charge his phone by his bed. The phrase 'First World Problem' comes to mind, and it's only because our last stay was pretty much perfect that we noticed this. Other than that, the usual boxes were ticked: clean, a good size TV, a good shower, and a sublime breakfast which once again brought us back to life, having enjoyed the launch party a little too much.
We do have to give a shout out to the hotel's ethics of working alongside local businesses, which was well demonstrated during the launch party. Each Point A hotel has what it calls the 'A-List', where guests benefit from perks with a selection of local businesses, ranging from gyms to barbers, to distilleries. In Edinburgh's case, we want to shout out the brilliant crew from Barbarossa who came along to the launch party, gave us both a trim and kept us looking sharp for the next few weeks, and the Edinburgh Gin company and Bellfield Brewery, who kept us feeling hungover for the next few weeks.
Overall the service provided went above and beyond, and our truthful opinion is Point A is somewhere to seriously consider
Day 3 - Ullapool Episode I - An Unexpected Journey
We checked out of our overnight stop at Point A, refreshed, full and fully charged, loaded the van and left the capital excited to see the renowned Cairngorms national park and head on to our next night's accommodation in Inverness.
Having left Edinburgh we really wanted to see the beautiful Scottish wilderness, and the Cairngorms were perfectly placed between Edinburgh and Inverness, the official starting point of the North Coast 500. We passed our time by gazing out the window at what can only be described as scrumptious scenery, only stopping for a quick break at the House of Bruar, which was a wonderful fashion, gifts and farm foods cafe, shop and outlet, which smelled like a foodies paradise. If we had the money, we could have spent a lot here. Worth a break if you have the time.
Once we left the House of Bruar we meandered our way north through the western extremities of the Cairngorms, heading slowly and peacefully to our first of many lochs, Loch Morlich. It was now that we came across our first real issue...
Hi all, Greg here! So there were a few things I wanted to surprise Charlie with along the way, including a couple of free nights accommodation at some truly exceptional glamping sites. So behind the scenes (and from his private email... -Charlie), I had been liaising with a couple of places, firstly the wicked ACE Adventures on the outskirts of Inverness, and the beautiful, unique Quercus on the west coast in the special fishing town of Ullapool.
We were making good time, and on our way to our accommodation 45 minutes north of our current location when I announced to Charlie "I have a surprise for you". I told him we had a free night and a special experience awaiting us. As Charlie checked our booking to find out what this surprise was, it turned out we were both in for a surprise: I had booked the accommodations the wrong way around, with a stay at Quercus in Ullapool to start, not in Inverness as I thought. Which is on the other side of the country.
We now had to cross Scotland from the east coast to the west. Charlie was not happy with me. I can only describe it as when you try and get someone a wonderful gift, only for them to hate it and throw it at you, aiming to hit square between the eyes. So we pulled in to the Loch, and I let Charlie have a minute in the van alone.
The loch wasn't the moodiest thing here!
Charlie here. Now seems like the time to jump in. So anyone who knows Greg knows that he's bad with technology. Like, really bad. Things that work perfectly wither and die in his presence like he's the human embodiment of the Y2K virus. So quite why Greg decided that arranging a trip via emails was a good idea is beyond me.
Cut to me sitting in the van holding Greg's phone, with no signal for miles at a time because, y'know, we're in a national park, which is more about trees than phone masts. He's blurted something about having a surprise (which it was), and that we were staying in Inverness (which we weren't). A very quick read of the emails showed what the mistake was. We looked at the map and we had a few hours drive ahead to get to Ullapool, where Janis at Quercus had very kindly laid on a glamping pod for the night. It had been a long day, and my inept colleague was now trying to frame his cock-up as a great thing. I was pissed and trying not to swear at him as we arrived at some loch, and he bravely left me alone for a bit.
Greg again. I hopped out and headed down to the striking loch, with dark, calm waters, bright green trees climbing the hills in the background, and the mist and cloud descending over and down into the lake. Eventually, Charlie had calmed down and joined me and we got some shots and relaxed for a bit, before jumping into the van for our extended drive west to Ullapool.
Apparently, distance and timing jokes were not funny, and silence was key. Things got tense as the road west went through Inverness (where we thought we were stopping), and stayed that way until we hit possibly my favourite road I've ever had the pleasure of driving: the A835 to Ullapool. It was jaw-dropping, and the tense silence meant we heard our jaws drop. We were both slowly coming around to making mistakes, only Charlie took a little longer. It was about the time we came across Loch Glascarnoch that Charlie spoke to me, finally coming around to the mistake being a good one.
It turned out to be the mistake that kept on giving, the drive down into Ullapool threw us back into silence as we were blown away with some of the best scenery we had ever witnessed. The icing on the cake came as we arrived at our night's stop Quercus. Again for the third or fourth time in four hours, we were speechless. It was only now, upon seeing the magnificent, beautifully crafted hut and teepee glamping tents, that Charlie turned to me, smiled and said this was the coolest place ever.
We both instantly fell in love with Quercus, its owner Janis, and her dog Polly. We really couldn't have asked for more. Yes, we were there a couple of weeks earlier than planned, but it gave us the chance to come back, which we did for 3 further nights on our way back down the west coast.
Having arrived at 18:00, we didn't have long before Janis surprised us with the offer of going out to sea with her friend Noel, who runs the Living Seas project, linked to the Scottish Wildlife Trust. We set off on Noel's boat, where we learned about the work the Living Seas project undertakes, working alongside Ullapool Sea Savers. We spent time around the inlet, checking his creel for prawns and other sea critters, looking for nesting sea birds and other creatures. In total, we spent 3 hours out to sea in a fascinating learning experience with some truly dedicated and kind people. It is people like Janis and Noel that give you hope, and you will hear more about them later in the blog as we return to Ullapool. We returned to land and thanked them both with a couple of drinks at the local - The Arch. After some live music and a couple of drinks, we grabbed a fish and chips from the takeaway down the road and made our way back to Quercus and our astonishing hut for the night.
The smiles on our faces as we fell into our beds was enough to show both what an epic evening we had and the sheer brilliance of the accommodation. We were like schoolboys giggling and laughing at how strange our day had been, and how we had ended up in such a fantastic place.
As mentioned you will hear more from Janis, Noel, Polly and the Quercus team later in the blog. But for now, we passed out, cosy, warm and loving life in our wooden hut.
Here at Far Out we are keen on working with local community projects, in particular, those preserving wildlife and the planet we love travelling so much! We want to talk about the work that these amazing projects undertake and how everyone can learn and physically contribute wherever you are in the world.
The Living Seas project looks into the impact of modern society on the seas and coastal areas of Scotland, and how to efficiently and effectively maintain them. They also look into the management and use of the seas, and how to maintain a healthy and sustainable environment for future generations.
This is where the Ullapool Sea Savers come in, working with the younger members of society to educate them in both why and how to protect our precious wildlife and habitats.
Together they run a number of clubs, talks and activities, such as beach cleans, which anyone can do at any time and makes a massive difference to the local environment. Wherever you are you can take part and do your bit - just head to your local beach and pick up stuff that shouldn't be there! For more please click on the links provided above
Day 4 - Inverness, the 500 and Tarbat Ness Lighthouse
Once again, we woke up refreshed (and freshly showered!), and excited for the day ahead. Today would see us start the NC500, our main event and reason for coming to Scotland.
It was going to be hard to beat yesterdays experience out on the water, and a fantastic nights sleep, but we knew we were in for an amazing couple of weeks. We also knew that this would be our last chance to have a proper shower for the foreseeable. From tonight onwards they would be limited. The shower was biblical, and something we weren't looking forward to giving up as we left the astounding Quercus, saying goodbye to Janis and Polly and knowing that wild camping lay ahead.
We hit up the A835 in reverse back to Inverness, this time stopping at Loch Glascarnoch to take in its natural beauty, fresh air and views. Having spent time exploring the dam that creates the loch we continued on to Inverness, more specifically Inverness Castle, which is the official starting point of the NC500.
For Inverness, the less said, the better. And as for the castle? Well the words disappointment, joke and pathetic come to mind. Not to mention it was impossible to find a parking spot, which is ironic because we can't imagine why you'd want to. We were so disappointed with the castle and the city as a whole, we decided to start our NC500 not at the castle, but the Lidl down the road, which was more impressive, more useful, and nearer the exit of this godforsaken, gridlocked hellhole of a city.
So that was Inverness and our enthralling start to one of the "world's finest driving routes". Whoever came up with the idea to start it here should be made by law to live in Inverness, and have to present themselves outside the hours between the hours of 12 and 4, where frustrated visitors can punch them at their leisure. The good news was it could only go uphill from here.
We set off on the 500, making it as much as four miles up the road (496 to go!) before we found the locals had heard our complaints and had formed a roadblock, and we assumed were ready to drag us back and behead us for treason. As it transpired, Belladrum Tartan Heart festival was happening nearby and providing a (probably very welcome) escape from Inverness for the locals. Some clever soul had decided the entrance was best placed on a small, two-way road, causing tailbacks for miles in both directions. A silver lining was provided though in the form of two guys deciding to relieve themselves at the side of the road in the static traffic just in front of us, at the exact time the traffic started rolling again. Watching them running up the road, shouting for their car to stop and laughing out the window at them as we followed behind in the van was classic!
Less than 10 minutes later, we were accosted by an elderly lady two miles further up the road in the petrol station. She was heading to the festival and jovially telling us about the bag full of weed she had with her to take at the festival, and her past experiences at the festival consoling lost people with a comforting joint. Our ribs had only just recovered from laughing at the two lads when she set us back off. It was shaping up to be a trip of interesting characters!
A short drive later we made it to our first planned stop in Beauly at an abandoned 13th-century priory. Whilst it may not sound the most interesting part of the trip - and in all fairness, it wasn't - what it was, was a roofless church which provided us with history, stories and dilapidated beauty. There is something mesmerising about abandoned buildings, no matter the size or the rate of ruin. We both enjoyed it as a shortstop and thankfully got out just as a tour bus emptied its load of passengers on the priory.
Back in the van, it was less than an hour and a half up the road we detoured off the 500 to visit visited the impressive Tarbet Ness Lighthouse - so impressive, in fact, that we took advantage of the wonderful Scottish laws of wild camping for the first time and parked up with the sea to our left and the back doors of the van opening out to the views of the lighthouse, and the fields of deep purple heather, bluebells and jagged rocks beyond
We set up camp for the night, got a cup of tea on the go with a couple of bacon and egg sandwiches, and relaxed, taking in the views. We took a walk around the headland and chilled on the rocks as the tide came in. Charlie spent a bit of time meditating on the headland until the sea dictated that his time was up. Unable to push back the oncoming tide, we caught up with a bit of work - not that it felt like work when you have views like this! Blogging and photo editing seemed like a very enjoyable task all of a sudden.
Night soon fell, as did we after another very changeable day full of ups and downs, and we guess that's travel. Today, like the past few, had far more ups than downs. The type of ups that not even Inverness Castle could ruin.
Day 5 - The impressive Dunrobin Castle, and the not-so-impressive Wick
Firstly, before we start writing up day 5: if you're from Wick in the northeast of Scotland, please skip day 5, you won't like us much. At all.
Day five started much as day four finished, with stunning views out to the lighthouse, good food and a solid cup of tea. After grabbing our last views of the stoic, beautiful red and white-ringed Tarbat Ness Lighthouse, we ventured further into the northernmost points of the British Isles.
Our first stop was at a little spot that a local at the lighthouse had told us about, called Port Ferry. This is a small inlet an hour north of the lighthouse, surrounded by golf courses (like most things in Scotland...) and a very small village. Whilst picturesque, it really wasn't all it was built up to be: what it was was a fast-flowing tidal lagoon with a pebble beach, which are about as common as oxygen in Scotland. We gave it a chance and spent a good 45 minutes messing around on the pebbled and in part sandy beaches, but honestly, it really isn't worth the stop.
Thankfully, we had also heard of a very spectacular castle only 15 minutes north, called Dunrobin Castle. This was what we signed up for in Scotland: old castles, sweeping landscapes, mountains, and lochs! We pulled in to an extravagant tree-lined driveway that rolled on and on, and we knew this was going to be special.
As we approached on foot, we got our first taste of the 'real' Scotland: a fresh sea breeze, the sun beating down, and the unmistakable sound of bagpipes wafting through the air. As for the castle itself, it looks like you'll find a Disney princess living there. Have a look:
We sat for what felt like (and probably was) hours, lapping up the sun and watching the falconry displays put on by the castle. Try and time your visit with one of these displays, they are fantastic, with the birds swooping from the skies to within inches of the gathered spectators.
We both loved the castle and really couldn't urge you enough to pay a visit. You don't even need to leave the NC500, the drive backs out onto it. Can't beat that for convenience!
Sadly, we did have to leave the castle and continue north, as our next stop was waiting eagerly for us. On the way, the small, pretty town of Brora provided us with a perfect backdrop for lunch, with views of the river dancing its way through small cliffs and colourful arrays of flowers.
We stocked up with more goodies, which, believe it or not, included ice lollies due to the heat.
In Scotland.
It's not right I tell you!
So we headed north, and our next stop up the road got us nose-deep back into the history books. The Grey Cairns of Camster was again a recommendation by the locals; in this case Noel from back in Ullapool. We pulled up to what should and can only be described as a mound of rocks, surrounded by bogland and sheep. Yet there was far more to it than that. Camster Cairns are neolithic burial chambers, and at over 5000 years old believed to be some of the oldest constructions in Scotland.
Once we had navigated the walkways that sit just above the bogland (cough Charlie), we entered into the old burial chambers, having to crawl on hand and foot through the short tunnels to their centre. It really is a fascinating experience, with the caveat that we'd say it's 'something to do', not a must-do. Interesting? Yes, but like yesterday's Beauly Priory it will never go down as one of the most memorable events of your life. However, it's free and worth a stop.
Once you have navigated the very bumpy, mainly single track road back to the NC500, you'll once again be reunited with the coast. Not only that, but you're a matter of minutes away from our next stop, which is the impressive Whaligoe Steps.
Now, this is an easy one to miss: the signs are tiny but it is the tiny 3/4 housed hamlet that sits on the cliff tops. We missed it 3 or 4 times (no phone signal means no sat-nav - we were running old school), but got there in the end. We blame the fallen-over sign for that.
The Whaligoe Steps are much as the name suggests: a load of steps that lead down to a little beautiful cove, surrounded by wildlife and stunning cliff formations. These are worth a stop, if only for the views. We managed to spot a couple of seals, which always makes a visit to a cove that bit better.
The clincher though, and why you should stop here, is at the top of the steps next to the small carpark. There is a stunning restaurant, cleverly named Whaligo Steps Cafe, with some very well-reviewed food and breathtaking panoramic views out of the huge window. We decided to grab dinner as it was now getting a bit late, and the views were stunning out across the now calm seas.
We shared a 'hearthbread' to start, which is an amazing, ornate flat garlic bread that we both agreed was heavenly. Following this though, we had different experiences. Greg had a burger and fries, along with a milkshake, and didn't really enjoy any of it - not even the milkshake. This really saddened me, as I love a good milkshake. The one thing I do have to say though is the portion size was top notch, just a shame about the flavour. Charlie, on the other hand, had scallops with chips and loved it! In particular, the Italian-style granita was amazing - worth a stop just for one of these (and yes, they do takeaway).
We carried on north to our planned overnight stop. Wick is the largest town for miles, and we arrived at about 9pm and were ready to see what was happening!
Nothing was happening. Literally nothing. This ghost town was seemingly abandoned, dull, and just damn right weird. It's like the opposite of a 'Greatest Hits' for a town: the empty, bleak harbour backs onto a desolate industrial estate, whilst the sludge of what used to be a river crawls its brown way through the town. We were there at 9pm on a Friday, and if they wanted to film a post-apocalyptic horror movie here they'd need to bus people in! The rest of the town matches that vibe though, so if you have a low budget horror movie to shoot, Wick is for you. There was no one to be seen here, and we drove around for 20 minutes. Finally, like a beacon in the darkness we found the one shining light, the words that shine across the UK and put hope in the heart of many a weary traveller:
Wetherspoons Public House.
Specifically, the most northerly Wetherspoons on the mainland British Isles, and the only one on the whole 500. And we found it by accident, like an inebriated sniffer dog.
We parked up, and prayed the van was going to be there upon our return. We took all our electronics with us to charge in the pub, and had so many extension leads running we feared we may cause a blackout.
We passed a couple of people on the way in, and when we say people we mean very, very underage girls dressed up like they were in their 20s, staggering down the road. Later, we were told that Wick has the highest rate of teenage pregnancy in Scotland. We can believe that.
The Wetherspoons, however, provided a safe sanctuary from the weirdness that was Wick, and we got down to a bit of work and charged our gear up for a couple of hours. The pub soon emptied, and the buzz that was lurking slowly died a death, doing the same as us and getting the fuck out of dodge.
We followed this lead and headed north through the now thick fog, which we presumed was put on by Wick to make us stay. Well, that wasn't happening. Death was preferable.
We arrived in a wonderful little harbour town called Keiss in the early hours of the morning as the fog lifted, and once again we took Scotland up-on its wild camping law, parking right on the tiny harbour and beach. Keiss was a welcome relief from Wick, and we were looking forward to a good night's sleep and the views the morning would bring.
Dear diary - We have now been in Scotland for five days, and on the NC500 for two. Despite being a 'driving road', the physical act of driving has been nothing too spectacular at all. The roads we have experienced off of the NC500 have been sublime, yet whilst we have found things to do on or near the NC500 over the last couple of days, the actual driving has been boring, dull, and on wide, straight roads, with very regular 30 and 20 zones. It's basically been like driving on an A-road.
Yes, it is very easy to drive and does have moments of pure gold, with S-bends winding up the cliffs in parts, but in general, we were both bored, and just expected more. We were now both really looking forward to hitting the North, and hoped the scenery improved along with the roads themselves. Otherwise, this could be a long couple of weeks ahead.
Day 6 - Beach Days, John O'Groats and The Northernmost Point
Thankful to be alive, we woke to the sounds of the quaint harbour after a late-night dash from Wick. We tried to take a dip off the jetty, but every time we attempted the cannonball the locals would come and want to launch their boats. So we settled (well, Charlie settled and Greg sulked) for a nice warming cuppa before hitting the road. We did, however, need a wash. The 2-day old aroma that was starting to fill the air, and we christened it 'Travel Funk', soon to be the next Yankee Candle scent. It was now time-critical to find somewhere to wash.
Luckily we didn't have to wait long - a couple of miles up the road Freswick Bay provided us with stunning fine sands caressing the water's edge. It was perfect, just what we were looking for for a relaxing morning, with not a soul in sight. We parked up, took the camp kitchen down to the beach and set up. We were joined by one family, but they left shortly after and we finally, a little later than planned, had a swim and wash in the sea. We were not alone, however, as a lone seal joined us, probably attracted by our high-pitched screams as the freezing northern waters tore into our unmentionables.
Slowly we warmed as the heat of the morning sun shone down on us, the crackling of the eggs and bacon, this whistle of the kettle and the soft rolling of waves the soundtrack to our morning. It was the perfect day, and we still had more than enough left to enjoy.
After packing up and leaving our new friend to float around just off the beach, we, smelling like angel's teardrops, excitably made our way 10 minutes to the most touristy point on the NC500: John O'Groats.
Normally, touristy means crammed with people, expensive and - let's be honest - a little bit shit. But actually, it was a good laugh, we drove up to Duncansby Head lighthouse which is the furthest point from Lands End, the southwestern tip of the United Kingdom. We fought through the road traffic, also known in this part of the world as sheep in the road. We spent a bit of time looking out to sea hoping for whales and orcas, but to no avail.
We then came back into the main John O'Groats town and found the famous lamppost that marks this tip of the UK - normally seen in pictures to signify the start or endpoint of a bike trek covering the whole of the UK.
We then took the opportunity to take in some amazing culture at the Highland Games, which happened to be on as we arrived. This was pretty much as you expect, with Viking-looking men and Viking-looking menwomen competing on the atlas stones, tug of war, and that one where you throw a beer keg over a high-jump pole. It concluded with an amazing display by the bagpipers, marching to precision.
Honestly, you couldn't wipe the smiles from our faces, and whilst clichéd this felt like real Scottish culture, and something we were desperate to see.
As the games wrapped up and the winners were given their medals, we left for our night's stop, and officially the northernmost tip of mainland UK at Dunnet Head Lighthouse (and we promise we aren't just touring lighthouses here).
Again, we desperately looked out for some whales and orcas, but once again to no avail. We walked up to the viewing point and spent some time relaxing, checking out the views as darkness fell on another day, finding us again wild camping in a lighthouse carpark. All in all, it was a very enjoyable day!
This post has grown into something we weren't expecting and is slightly longer than we first thought, so we are splitting this into three. Click here to join us on PART TWO as we cross the northern coast and delve into the mountainous west!