Scotland and the North Coast 500 - Part Three
Last Updated: May 12, 2023
JOIN OUR FINAL DAYS ON THE NORTH COAST 500 AS OUR FAR OUT TRILOGY ENDS IN STYLE
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Day 12 - On The Road
Waking up just off the beach should have been an enjoyable experience, with glossy-magazine-style views and potentially an early morning swim, but it wasn't. What it was was a dark and gloomy day, with the wind blowing off the sea at a rate of knots - enough to immediately dump half the beach's sand in our faces. Each blink was like a low grade of sandpaper across the eyes, and last night's washing up pile could've won a sandcastle competition.
Our travel buddies from yesterday managed to get their tent down and said their goodbyes to us, before setting off north with the guys from last night and leaving us to head east and back to the NC500. We rejoined the route just south of Unapool, and set our sights back on the now-familiar Ullapool, arriving just before lunch.
By now it is safe to say we knew Ullapool well and decided to do a bit of a shop, refuel before heading into some of the most glorious landscapes the UK has to offer. We said our final goodbyes to this beautiful, quaint old town, and with the wind rocking the van and rain pounding the windscreen, set off through the rough conditions. At least it wasn't like we had mountains and narrow hairpin bends to ascend or anything.
It wasn't an easy or a great drive if we're honest, even if the views were spectacular at times. We passed gorges like nothing we had ever seen, valleys flanked by mountains looming into the low cloud, but the relentless rain hampered every mile. By 4.30, we had navigated our way safely to the tiny town of Applecross. After a short comfort break, we left the safety of the town and made our way east.
Now for those of you who know Applecross, or the NC500, you will firstly know that the town itself is at sea level, and secondly that it is shadowed by a couple of bloody large mountains to its east. The first being Beinn Bhan, the second Bealach Na Ba.
The road east from Applecross takes you up and over the monster that is Bealach Na Ba, and if by some miracle you get good weather, the views from the lookout point at the top are phenomenal. Whilst the rain had died back, the wind was still fierce, making for an interesting and rather dangerous excursion outside. Edging closer to the edge we took in the views south out over the bay towards the rugged, sensational Isle of Skye.
After we had been blown to within an inch of death - quite literally - we took on the most ferocious stretch of road on the NC500. It even had its own name - the Pass of the Cattle. Whilst it was the most ferocious, it was also the most exciting, enjoyable and fantastic stretch of road on the course. If you're using the NC500 as a driving road, this is the jewel in the crown.
The descent back to planet earth took just over ten minutes, and it was ten minutes of pure driving perfection. The buttery smooth tarmac hair-pinned every 25 metres or so, with deadly dropoffs to deter the unsuspecting motorist or the idiotic knob thinking he was Lewis Hamilton, in which case: welcome to the Darwin Awards.
It wasn't just the road; it was the views, it was the risk, it was everything about it. The smell of warm clutch teasing the cool mountain air. It was once again a moment from the trip neither of us will ever forget.
The best advice we can give is this - If you are in an old car or campervan, the route east to west could easily destroy every mechanical part of the vehicle. Go from west to east. Those who have a slightly newer, sporty vehicle looking for a challenge give it a go if you dare, all you'll need to replace is the clutch. Bargain.
We clattered our way south off the mountains, and detoured off the 500 once again, this time for the last time. Our target was the craggy island we had seen earlier, a place we'd both heard beautiful stories of: Skye.
A drive down some twisting, tree-lined roads soon spat us out in the vicinity of the Skye bridge. By this point we were both tired, had been driving for hours and fighting off sizeable headaches. We just wanted to camp up - travel isn't always perfect!
We made our way north, placing ourselves centrally on the island just off the A863 for the night, in a valley of some of the most breathtaking scenery yet. By the time we parked up, we were both knackered, mentally and physically, after one of the craziest drives of our lives - through rain, wind, and roads so crazy that cars could be found scattered across the route like a post-apocalyptic metal graveyard.
Day 13 - Skye and the End of the NC500
We woke up in a little valley and the weather had not improved one iota. The cloud was low and the fog lower, shrouding the famous beauty of the island with a murky white soup. As an undercurrent of wind blowing cold and slightly wet air through our already-chilled bodies, Greg had had enough. This was nothing he had signed up for, and had quite frankly had enough of the weather, Scotland, and the whole experience; stuck in a van in the cold and not having showers and washing up in the rain- or midge-infested air every morning. Charlie, on the other hand, was in full swing and loving the views, even if Greg couldn't see a bloody thing through the fog. After grabbing a bite to eat and getting slightly soaked in the process we continued our tour of Skye.
We headed west around the island through the mist and fog with Charlie gazing out the window in awe at this beauty that Greg was missing. Upon hitting the west coast of Skye we headed north embracing the north coast a short while later. It was now that the driving became unbearable and Greg's language and mood fragile, to say the least. That fragility broke when some "dickhead" in a large (possibly 6-berth) campervan who was obviously either pissed or unable to drive took a trip into our lane causing us to dive into an emergency evasive manoeuvre. Instead of a head-on, the idiot only removed my wing-mirror before sailing off into the sunset. Good job for him really, as I am not sure of his outcome if he had stuck around.
This was soon to become one of many 'luckily' more successful evasive manoeuvres on the island with some of the worst driving we had ever seen. It appeared that people were hiring cars without a licence or a massive camper when all they had previously driven was a Honda Jazz.
Once we hit the northwest of the island and started to head south the roads became extremely narrow and busy. There were miles stretches which took over 20 minutes, thanks to the footfall and poor driving, and things got to a breaking point for Greg who was ready to kill.
Luckily, 'for Greg' we left the island, with Greg vowing never to return to the fog infested, hell hole of a place full of useless drivers, and piss poor roads. Whilst Charlie already wanting to go back, 'without Greg' thought it was one of the most beautiful, stunning locations he had ever been. It was somewhere Charlie loved and was already planning on hiking at a later date. It was very strange how two people in the same circumstances, on the same trip, could have such varied opinions on one place.
We left the island at 1350hrs with Charlie gazing back and Greg only looking forward. We made our way northeast and picked up our last hitchhiker, a really nice older Italian fella who had hiked the whole of Scotland over the years and had some impressive stories to tell. We dropped him at his destination and once again and for the last time rejoining the NC500 between Loch Luichart and Loch Garve.
This was it, the final stretch of the road that we had talked about for many months, travelled and lived for the past couple of weeks. It had become our life, and something, at points we didn't know if we would complete.
It wasn't long before we came to a town called Muir of ord, which sounded familiar. Then, in the heart of the town we came to the very fork in the road where the NC500 splits, and we had two weeks earlier turned north. Now coming at the fork from the west meant we had covered the 500 and were left with the short dash down to Inverness. We entered the city of Inverness and parked up at Lidl at 1555hrs where we started. We picked up a load of food for our last few nights in Scotland and once again got the hell out of dodge.
Our destination was a wicked little glamping and adventure centre just outside of Inverness called ACE Adventures and Hideaway*. You may remember this name from part one of the Scotland adventures, where Greg had accidentally booked the accommodation on the wrong dates.
Anyway, we had made it and we were here for two nights, it was time to relax. The first thing we headed for was the showers, the first thing we noticed was the cleanliness of the showers and toilets. Here was an adventure and activities park, yet we would have happily eaten off the floor. It was immaculate. The showers followed in the same vein, they were not only clean enough to hold a royal wedding but powerful enough to wash the darkest of sins from any body, not to mention they were hot.
This was a fantastic start to life at ACE, and things only improved that night as we got chatting to Tracey and the staff. We really couldn't have asked for a nicer group of people, all of whom very obviously cared about your stay with them, and giving you an unforgettable experience. Luckily for us, there was a disc golf tournament this weekend with Scotlands number 1 on display. What it also meant was ACE was putting on a feast of a BBQ.
We did what we do well, and that's destroying a lot of food over a short space of time. We got to know the competitors for tomorrows tournament whilst finding out exactly what disc golf entails. ACE have their own challenging course in which competitors travel from the likes of the USA to compete on and we were invited to pop on over tomorrow to watch the final and winning shots.
After a long few days, and a large amount of food we headed back to the van where we cracked open the laptops and got working, yes, we do work, sometimes. We worked into the early hours in the toilets, thanks to the lack of power supply to the van and charlie failing laptop.
Day 14 - Far Out on the White Water
We woke up early today and there was a reason for this, today would be the day Far Out would; at best get very wet, at worst, drown in a horrible accident.
We grabbed a delightful BLT once again put on by the amazing team at ACE before kitting up for a day on the water. Once we were ready Jordie 'our poor instructor' who was in charge of us two muppets on what was a dangerous stretch of river gave us a safety briefing prior to the trip down to the water's edge.
We arrived at the Findhorn River which is one of only a handful of wild rivers left in Europe. A wild river is a free-flowing river that flows from the source to its endpoint without any interruptions or manmade objects. ACE is the only company who have been granted access to this section of the river, and trust us, it's not a stretch of the river you want to miss.
It was now time for Jordie to earn his money, and trust us, he was going to with us idiots. Just getting us out alive would be a miracle, anything better is a bonus. We jumped into the boat and off we went to our certain death. Jordie guided us downstream surrounded by some stunning scenery, birds and historic old bridges.
It wasn't long before Jordie had to start taking command and barking instructions at us as we navigated downstream, past what was to us, large rapids, only to find out that they were nothing. Nothing compared to what we had to get through further downstream.
Halfway down the river, we stopped for a bite to eat, which was put on by ACE. After a quick bite we left the boats moored up and took part in a couple of cliff jumps. This was a fantastic and fun break for our wiery arms and a great touch to the day's activities.
At one point we got suck in an 'Eddie' and no word of a lie, we were stuck and running out of energy to get us out. With one last attempt, we gave it everything and squeezed out between the rocks that screeched along the side of the boat and thrown out the other side.
Now, out the other side of the butt-clenching and hair-raising rapid, low on breath and knackered we got to watch the other boat follow through. It was by far the most exhilarating moment on the trip and an experience that had to be done to be believed.
We hit out a few further unreal, and brilliant rapids and by some miracle, we both made it out not only alive but without falling in once. We had actually done a thing. A real thing, and survived. We say we did a thing, well, it was Jordie, it was all him, he had worked a miracle. He was a wizard.
After 7k of arm aching, yet sidesplittingly funny few hours we got to the end of the tour. We got back to the ACE site and jumped in the aforementioned incredible showers. Once warm, clean and dry we headed straight out to watch the last couple of shots of disc golf, where once again Scotlands number one showed why he was just that - number 1.
We then moved from the van up to the stunning Bell Tents for our second night in this most wonderful and relaxing location. The forest settings were idyllic and calming after a frantic day surviving our day on the water.
The bell tents came complete with mattress and log burner, whilst outside had a fire pit, with logs on sale for £7. It was one of the comfiest nights we had during the trip curled up around the sizzling burner with smells of Christmas filling the bell tent. It really is somewhere we would have to recommend.
Overall, the bell tent cost £75 per night and can sleep up to 7 which really isn't bad at all. They do also have camping spots from £4 a day, and stunning shepherd huts from £70 a night.
There are also many other adrenaline-pumping sports including paintballing, canoeing and kayaking, disc golf, canyoning and many others. The full day's white water rafting that we highly recommend after our experiences costs £70 per person and is worth every penny.
Day 15 - Myth and Magic -Scotland Style
Waking up in our bell tent, with the log burner still crackling from last night, and no real urger or want to get out of our toastie duvets was heaven. There was only one thing that could make this a perfect start to the day, and that was an ACE shower.
Nothing had set us up for a day more than a log burner and a shower. Sadly though, we did had leave this crazy adventure zone in search of something a little more Scottish. Our next stop was one of myth and legend, or so we had hoped anyway as we made our way on to the famed Loch Ness.
If you haven't heard of Loch Ness or more importantly what lies beneath the Loch Ness Monster, we shall explain. Many many moons ago there was said to be a creature of such a vast size that inhabited and roamed the loch. It was said to have a long neck and humps that flayed behind as it ducked and dived through the water.
Reports came in sporadically over the years, and yet despite the best efforts of modern-day diving equipment, vast numbers of tourists and top quality cameras, the only shots of Nessie have been blurred beyond belief, raising doubt as to is this folklore or an unsolved storey yet to be finished?
Anyway, we went to Loch Ness arriving on its eastern shores at the Dores Inn, a delightful little pub with views out across the vast Loch. After a short leg stretch and a glance across the horizon in search for this mythical beast, with no luck whatsoever we moved on. We continued along the southern shores of Loch Ness as it seemed to be a far pretty drive, less traffic and zero 'tourist shops, amusements and activities'.
After 23 miles of Loch Ness and the magical Loch Tarff, we arrived in the most horrendous of places - Fort Augustus. It was hell on earth, with coach load after coach load of tourist streaming in from all angles, and cars everywhere. After more than two weeks on the road, in relative remoteness, this was not something we had expected, wanted or travelled for, but then, the idea of being stuck on a coach with 40 others all doing the same thing is not for us.
We left as quickly as we arrived and made our way around Ben Nevis, the United Kingdoms tallest mountain just outside Fort William. Instead of making our way down to the Kennacraig which is where we had planned to stop for the night we split north in search of some childhood memories.
Glenfinnan Viaduct, made famous in the Harry Potter books was our next port of call. Having arrived just after the 'Harry Potter' train flew over was a bad move. We didn't plan it very well, and there wasn't a scrap of road left to pass oncoming vehicles, let alone park. Eventually, the crowds faded with our dreams of seeing the train, but we decided to take the short walk anyway, and despite there being one path, we got lost. Standard.
Eventually slightly wet underfoot we made our way under the viaduct and up the other side, to the gorgeous lookout we sucked up the views of not only the viaduct itself but the misty clouds rolling over the onrushing mountains and down into Loch Shiel. The clouds started to build so we darted down the hill, and up to the second lookout, with even more spectacular views over the Glenfinnan Monument, and Loch.
Once again the rain had caught up with us as we found ourselves ' not for the first time today' running for cover. Luckily there was a delightful little cafe perched on the end of a Harry Potter tourist shop, so we went for a hot chocolate and a cake. With a wonderful window spot, we watched the storm pass, as a rainbow danced across the dark and moody skies.
As the rain cleared, we followed, and at 1745hrs jumped in the car and headed for our overnight stop, somewhere near the port of Kennacraig. We hadn't got far when once again more evasive driving was required ' on our own side of the road' yet again, which was more than enough. Our luck, however, was about to change.
The rain had cleared and we were on a stunning coastal road with views out to the west of Loch Linnhe and the mountainous terrain making for the perfect backdrop when all of a sudden, just as we entered the town of Portnacroish there stood what we had been searching for. It was another small but epic castle, and to make this one even more special it was marooned out in the loch on its own island. Now privately owned there are a limited number of tours that take place, so don't expect it, but, if you time your trip, we think it could be worth a look into.
After watching the sun slowly set behind the terrific Castle Stalker we made our way south once more. There was, however, one more childhood memory 'for Greg' in Oban as it was his first-ever 'proper' holiday with his grandparents. The town had changed but it brought back some loved memories of his grandfather and grandmother back in the day, and those hilarious tartan hats with ginger hair stuck into the sides.
We finally made it, a little later than planned to Kennacraig, and decided there was no better place than the port's car park. It was now 2115hrs, it was dark and tomorrow we had a very early crossing to Islay to tick one of Charlies longest-serving bucket list items, what you ask? To visit his square foot of land within the Laphroaig Distillery and drink. So we made sandwiches and prepped some stuff to take over for our day trip, and got an early night.
Day 16 - Charlies Bucket List
Our alarms vibrated around the van like a gong off in your ear at 0550hrs which was all too much like work, but this time we were going somewhere worth getting up for. Luckily we had thought of this moment and packed, so we washed, threw some clothes on. We tried many times to exit the van, but it was like stepping on to the Artic. After three or four failed attempts we had made it, and by 0630hrs we were collecting our tickets from the ticket office. There couldn't have been more than a dozen people aboard the vessel as Charlie ran up the ramp like an excited kid at a theme park.
Once the ship set sail for Islay at 0700hrs we grabbed a big Scottish breakfast and a cup of tea, with no more than 60 people on board. We came to the conclusion that there must have been more than two staff to every 3 guests, there was no way this was viable, and the only way this could be profitable was with government subsidies.
After a couple of hours, we could see a couple of the whiskey distilleries on the horizon with their names bounding out to sea, guiding the supply ships in like a lighthouse beacon. Only this time, calling them in, not warning them away.
We docked in Port Ellen on the south coast and b-lined for the Laphroaig distillery. It only took us 25 minutes from dock to distillery, and even we couldn't go wrong here, bar one little visit into someone's garden thinking it was the driveway to Laphroaig.
We took in the small onsite museum where we learnt about the founding of the Laphroaig name and how it has been developed over the years through the generations. After that we visited the shop as we didn't want to pop in the bar, it wasn't even 10 am yet. We signed our names in the guestbook, and Charlie even found his name in the patron's book, which he countersigned.
By then it was 10:30 am and felt this was a far more appropriate and respectable time to call in for our free taster at the bar. The taster was followed by a selection of other drinks, including a tasting tray which went down all to well. Luckily, the distillery had put on free tea, coffee and hot chocolate with biscuits to help soak up the alcohol, so between them and our sandwiches, we prepped last night we remained relatively sober.
At just after lunch we grabbed some wellies 'which again are laid on by the distillery' and with a grid reference and map we made our way out in search of Charlies plot of land. Thanks to some dodgy 3g and changing maps it only took 30 minutes, and we couldn't have been more than 5 minutes from the front door.
Anyway, we had arrived at the holy grail, and it didn't take long for Charlie to mark his territory, stomping his massive size 13 boots into the grass, flattening the boundary as he jumped in his square foot with a smile on his face wider than the English Channel.
After a toast to his grampy, and demolishing our other sandwiches we marked the land with the United Kingdom and England flags, sadly no Far Out flag and made our way back to the main buildings. We grabbed a couple more drinks before joining our tour at 1500hrs. Jonny who had been serving us our drinks became our tour guide, which was quality. He guided us through all the buildings and with enthusiasm and vigour explained each step of the process before our tour was completed with yet more whisky. This time we decided to bottle ours and take it with us as we had to grab a taxi to the port and think about our onward journey.
There are a number of different tours run within the distillery, and all we can do is recommend the Distillery Wares tour for £70. We are sure no matter which tour(s) you chose, it will be value for money, and an experience you'll remember.
Our taxi picked us up at 1645hrs and drove us north through the centre of the island to the Port of Askaig. This 30 minute journey cost us £40 which was beyond ridiculous, as return boat from the mainland cost less. It honestly felt like we had been robbed, and wouldn't recommend our driver at all.
After another bite to eat, and a bit more work, yes work, on the boat we arrived back on the mainland at 2015hrs and headed south, as far as we could make before tiredness kicked in, hoping to make it to an overnight stop near an abandoned castle just north of Glasgow called Buchanan Castle. We arrived finally at 2250hrs and instead of bunkering down for the night Charlie decided it was the perfect time to check out our spooky surroundings.
Off we went in search of the ruins, only to find that we had parked under the lurching turret, which was handy. The other slightly odd finding was that this abandoned castle was situated in the middle of a housing estate. The path through the woods turned every security light on, which was unnerving, we felt like shouting out "we ain't on the rob". Anyway, we avoided any security dogs, disgruntled locals and gave a midnight exploration into the dark and dingy world of the past.
It wasn't long before we got overtired and headed back to the van, knowing we had an early start, and a lot to see and explore on our final hours in Scotland.
Day 17 - Castles, Asylums and Home
Our final day in Scotland called for yet another early start, we had a deadline, and we had to be in Bristol by nightfall. There was still a couple of pockets of fun we wanted to have before embracing the border and our long-ass trip south. The first of these was looming large over the top of us, Buchanan Castle. The frost was still thick on the early morning summer sun as we fell out of the van for one last time cold but excited for what would lie ahead.
The castle/stately home was built in 1852 and 1858 and was part of the Montrose family until 1925, it wasn't until 1954 when the roof was removed that nature took control, and has now become the only permanent resident of this strange and spooky castle. Exploring such epic surroundings comes with hazards, they are abandoned and they are not always safe, it may be worth rethinking. There is something about these buildings that capture us and draws us in like a smell from a fresh bakery. Exploring this crazy, overground, monstrous building is exhilarating and adrenaline pumping. But the thing that's us pumped is this, what stories have the buildings got to tell, what has happened here, and what shall never be told, now taken to the graves.
Having left this incredible place we ploughed south and into the city of Glasgow, where we had heard of another abandoned building with a far darker story to tell, stories of torcher, imprisonment and murder. Old Lennox Castle Hospital which lies less than a stone throw from the millionaire's playground that is Celtic Football Club's training ground is not only abandoned but crumbling at a rate of knots.
The former mental health residential hospital is slowly being replaced by forest, moss and wildlife, and whilst the majority of the structure is intact, there are complete walls that have given up the ghost, and caved in. This eerie and haunting building still shows signs of its former life as a prison for the mentally incapable. There are some truly distressing sights and in places, patients doors can be seen with the very markings made by their enclosed prisoners.
The only real moment of slight relief was that some brave soul has climbed to the top of the old hospital, stepped out on to an old falling mental walkway and tied a rope, this rope falls to almost ground level where a tyre now swings. Although, no way would we risk such a swing, that could easily have caused the whole walkway and possible building to implode.
Having spent some time in the area including some of the outhouses which surround the castle we felt it was time to leave. These buildings held high emotions and still gave off nervy and unpleasant feelings. We left still non-the-wiser to the stories of the people who lived, worked and visited the castle and hospital, and in a way felt that we didn't need to know.
At 1200hrs we shot off into Glasgow, grabbed more snacks than a small family needed, and made our way south crossing the border and back into England, finally arriving home at 1850hrs.
Far Out's Sum-up of Scotland and the North Coast 500
This is going to be an interesting one, and we aren't really sure how to write it if we are honest. One trip, two very different points of view, and yet so many similar thoughts. The only way to write this is going to be in three parts, one for Greg, one for Charlie and one neutral round-up in regards to tourism in Scotland and the effects that the 500 is having based on our conversations with locals around the country. So here goes nothing.
Greg's thoughts - I had been looking forward to the NC500 and Scotland as a whole, I had seen amazing photos, heard incredible stories, and have been in love with driving since throwing a Vauxhall Nova around hay bails on my uncle's farm at the age of 16. So this trip was bound to be epic, I had my van, my mate, and good vibes, what could spoil this.
It turns out, rather a lot, I enjoyed Edinburgh, but it just felt fake, and spoilt, and whilst fun lacked that get up and go. The east coast, in general, was boring, dull and less delightful than bedbugs in a cheap hostel, bar the odd sporadic moment of pure perfection. The north, well that lacked nearly everything only saved by the odd beach that wouldn't have looked out of place in a Caribbean magazine. They were stunning, beautiful sands, calming cool and clear waters and we were lucky to have the sun to match. The west had something the others didn't prolonged moments of driving brilliance, mountains and lochs, with beaches to match that of the north. Yet the whole coast was spoilt with either the wind and rain or thousands of midges taking at your eyelids, and that is something I cannot deal with.
When you mix that in with poor driving and the fact we went without showers for days on end, didn't really stop to relax other than in Ullapool which I loved, and didn't really see much. I was hoping for more and was really disheartened by it all. The people were lovely, and they gave me back faith and hope, but it was too late, by the time some idiot hit us in Skye I was past caring. Overall the NC500 was less than fun for me and I much prefered areas off of the 500. They had better roads, much more eye-catching scenery and in places things to do. I would take the 500 as a guide, not as a route.
I was pleased to come back to England and can happily say I won't be back any time soon. I need to get back to the sun, heat and somewhere with a bit more culture. I think the NC500 has split the people and the tourism board needs to rethink its marketing. It is all well and good selling a route, but that means you have to supply things to do, amenities and not removing bins and toilets. It is a half-assed attempt to bring people to Scotland without putting in any thought about the road conditions, the local people and the emergency services.
Also for the price, we paid, considering we didn't pay for one night's accommodation, well, I could have island-hopped around Asia.
Charlie's thoughts - I didn't know quite what to expect from the 500. The idea of taking something that already exists, putting a name on it and shipping it out as a sort of "tourist experience" seems quite arrogant - it's not like they created anything new, and I'm not convinced the locals wanted it either.
It's undeniably beautiful though. And that is the reason it's been made into this 'route'. The scenery, the roads, the beaches, they're all achingly, mesmerisingly pretty. Whether you're here to drive it, walk it, or stare at it out of a bus window, it's somewhere special. I'd go as far as to say it's one of the most beautiful places I've been - and I don't say that lightly!
So would I recommend it? Well... no.
Let me be clear: driving around Scotland, that I do recommend. But the 500? The 500 is a neatly packaged tour that reflects everything I don't like about prescriptive, pre-planned holidays. It's not a passion project, an ode to the rugged, dirty beauty of the highlands, it's a project worked on in a marketing department with the sole aim of bringing in more tourists. It wasn't built with love, it was built with data. And that feels wrong for trying to make people love this raw, untouched wilderness.
It misses several of my favourite sections of our trip, like Skye and Tarbat Ness lighthouse. It also takes you places that serve you in no way at all. The majority of the east side was about as exciting as an episode of 'Songs of Praise' - just miles of nondescript road so bland it's not worth the pixels you're reading. The route serves its own purpose of being a marketable '500 miler', it doesn't serve the best route to people aiming to see something truly special.
So, in hindsight, I feel we'd have been better served just figuring out the route on our own based on research and instinct, and avoiding this predetermined path that leads you straight past some of the greatest treasures of this little northern rock. Scotland is beautiful enough without needing to squeeze it into a prepackaged corporate box for easy digestion by the masses. So grab a camera, check when midge season is and just go for it. And enjoy the clearer roads!
Our Overall thoughts - As you can see our opinions differ dramatically on a number of points, and this split is also shown within the local communities living alongside the NC500. There are those who, whilst, 'not all in the tourism industry' rave about how much it is bringing to the local economy and the good it is doing for the local community. There are, however, just as many 'some of whom work within the tourism industry' who argue against the NC500. They go on to tell tails of erratic driving, increased pollution and an environment under threat. There doesn't seem to be a common or agreeable thread. But, in a way that's travel, it divides, it splits opinion and certain trips aren't for everyone. This is most certainly one of those trips.
Some of our concerns are, as this route gains popularity what will happen to the roads. In parts, they are struggling already, and 'on the west coast' singletrack. As more and more people arrive, this could cause vast tailbacks, traffic jams, and serious issues for locals going about their daily business, not to mention the emercey services. Other issues we found include a lack of toilets, bins and other useful additions that could increase awareness for those taking on the 500. It seems that actually there are fewer of these facilities now in an attempt to cut costs, and this is only going to destroy the environment and its wildlife.
Our last issue which again was bought to our attention by a local working in the tourism trade earning a living from the NC500. That issue is, so many people are now coming up to do the NC500, and are bringing all they need with them, food, camping equipment, drink the list is endless, even fuel. They then spend 3 to 5 days spanking around the route and leaving as quickly as they arrived. This is not bringing anything into the communities, nothing into the Scottish economy and is having an adverse effect on the surroundings and people. This needs to change, and we blame in part the tourism board and the Scottish government. Even if those of us travelling the NC500 decided to stay a night here and a night there, that in itself is causing a lot of work for small b&b's, daily changes of beds, washing cleaning. Stay for 2 or 3 nights, get to know the area, go the extra mile and meet the locals, it really is worth it.
We left Scotland still discussing the pros and cons, and there are both. The only way we could agree was to compromise and this is our sum up .....
Scotland has moments of pure wonder, awe, beauty and perfection, it truly is beautiful, but it's too infrequent. There will be 5 of the 6 stars all aligned waiting for that sixth to join, but when it does, more often than not, one of the others drops out. When, on that rare occasion, all the stars align, Scotland could compete with the likes of Australia, Bali, Hawaii or even Spain for that top spot. But, if you were to say, lads, here is £1,400 and you have to spend it on a holiday, either islandhopping around Greece/any Mediterranean country or Scotland and the NC500, we'd look at the map, and book our flights to the Med every time.