The long and winding road
Was könnte schöner sein als eine Reise im Wohnmobil entlang einer der spektakulärsten Routen Großbritanniens? Die NC500 bietet 500 Meilen Abenteuer pur in den schottischen Highlands. Von JULIAN EARWAKER
When travelling, the journey often matters more than the destination. That is certainly true of the route known as North Coast 500 (NC500), one of Britain’s most dramatic road trips — especially when my choice of vehicle is a campervan. Inverness, gateway to the Highlands, is the start and end point of my 516-mile (830-kilometre) drive. Yet, as I discover, some of the most memorable experiences lie off the beaten track.
Tuesday: Welcome to the Highlands
“The North Coast 500 is usually the first place to go for people new to campervanning,” says Louise Hislop, from Roseisle Luxury Campervans, near Edinburgh. “It never disappoints.”
My home for the next week is one of their German-designed, four-berth HYMER Fiat Yosemite campervans. Six metres long and two metres wide, it somehow fits in sleeping/living areas, kitchen, toilet, basin and shower, heating, electricity and even a TV. It drives like a dream.
“Welcome to the Highlands,” says the sign on the A9 three hours later, and soon, I’m approaching Inverness. Nearby is Culloden, the site of a brutal battle in 1746 between the English army and Jacobite forces of “Bonnie Prince Charlie” Stuart. Defeat of the Highland rebels led to longlasting repression of the culture and clans (or family networks) in the region.
I learn about this and much more at the Inverness Museum and Art Gallery, located below the pink sandstone towers of the castle that overlooks the River Ness. With its shops and services, mountains on the horizon and the mysteries of nearby Loch Ness, the town is very much a Highland capital.
Leaving Inverness during rush hour, I travel west on the official NC500 route towards the town of Beauly and the Glen Ord whisky distillery. Soon after, I turn off the main road, crossing on to the Black Isle peninsula. I arrive at the beautiful Fortrose Bay campsite just before the sun sets across the waters of the Moray Firth.
It’s a short walk into town, past the floodlit ruins of the 13th-century cathedral. In the High Street, I find IV10: a cafe, bar and deli, as well as a community hub. The menu is seasonal and locally sourced. My meal is delicious, especially the fried mushrooms on toast, washed down with a glass of blonde beer from the Black Isle Brewing Company.
I meet the owner of IV10, Emma Davies, who moved to the Black Isle with her husband and young daughter five years ago. “I want IV10 to reflect the character of the Black Isle,” she explains. “We intend to play our part in making the Black Isle a place you can’t wait to come back to.”
Wednesday: On the water
The Black Isle, I learn, is neither black nor an island — the rich, dark earth gives the area its name, while the south-west of the “isle” is firmly attached to the mainland. It does, however, have its own individual culture and dialect.
I start my day at the attractive port of Cromarty, home to some fine architecture. The town’s more recent economic success followed the discovery of North Sea oil. The deep natural harbour is an ideal location for service oil rigs.
The wildlife doesn’t seem to mind sharing a home with these giant pieces of industry. “The waters of the Cromarty Firth and Moray Firth are rich in marine life,” says Sarah Pern, skipper of Ecoventures, a local wildlife boat tour company. I climb aboard the Saorsa (Gaelic for “freedom”), and the boat speeds across the cold, deep water. Pern lists some of the animals they have seen, especially all the different whales. Out on the water, she slows the boat and looks for any sign of the dolphins that make the area so popular with wildlife enthusiasts.
Back on dry land, it’s time for me to rejoin the NC500 and follow the A9 north along the Cromarty Firth, past low-lying farmland and long, sandy beaches. After a 90-minute drive, I stop at Dunrobin Castle, historic home of the powerful Sutherland family.
More like an extravagant Loire chateau than a Highland castle, Dunrobin dates back to 1275 and has been extensively rebuilt. The 16th-century Scottish “baronial” exterior mixes with Renaissance-style interiors. The gardens and sea views alone are worth the visit. While Dunrobin was being improved in the 18th and 19th centuries, thousands of families were being evicted from the land to make room for sheep farming during the brutal Highland Clearances.
Back on the NC500, I follow the A99 coastal road towards Wick. It’s almost dark by the time I reach Windhaven Campsite. I park near the cliff’s edge, overlooking Brough Bay, where seals float like corks in the stormy Atlantic waters. With the strong wind shaking my campervan and the rain lashing down, I feel very exposed. At some point in the night, the wild weather causes the campsite’s power to fail. Fortunately, my van has a back-up battery.
Thursday: At the edge of things
I leave early the next morning and drive three miles (4.8 km) to Dunnet Head. For now, the rain has stopped. From the car park, I follow the footpath and soon find myself truly at the edge of things, standing at the most northerly point on the British mainland. Seabirds circle the steep cliffs, and the lighthouse stands like an ocean guard. In front of me is nothing but sea.
By contrast, the nearby village of John O’groats, about 12 miles (20 km) to the east, is a colourful, commercial hub, with cyclists, walkers and tourists posing for photos in front of the famous signpost: Land’s End 874 miles (1,406 km), New York 3,230 miles (5,198 km).
The weather stays cloudy and a light rain starts to fall as I drive along the coast road towards Thurso. To the west of the town is Scrabster, a busy port with a regular 90-minute ferry service to Stromness, on Orkney.
At the nearby Wolfburn Distillery, I’m welcomed by Charlie Ross, its tour manager. He explains that the modern distillery is a “reawakening” of an older distillery here dating back to 1821. Today’s award-winning micro-distillery uses the same clear waters of the Wolf Burn (stream) as the original business, he says, to produce its smooth, single malt whisky.
Whisky is vital to the Highland economy; around 50 distilleries support 7,000 jobs and produce a large part of Scotland’s £4.9 billion (€5.7 billion) worth of exports of Scotch whisky. Back on the road, keeping my Wolfburn miniature bottles for later, I continue west.
It’s late afternoon by the time I arrive at the entrance to Smoo Cave in Durness. Eroded out of the limestone cliffs by rainwater and the sea, this echoing cave can be explored on foot or by boat. I take the steep steps down to the beach and follow the path into the floodlit cave system.
I have no campsite booked for tonight. Instead, I park just off the A894 near Scourie, at a spot overlooking a small loch. I cook supper and watch from my window as the water grows still and reflects the night sky.
Friday: The wild west
The north-west corner of the Highlands feels a million miles away from modern urban life. I drive through a cinematic landscape dominated by the mountains of Suilven and Ben More Assynt. Strong winds and fast-moving clouds create skies like paintings by the artist J.M.W. Turner, constantly shifting sun and shade, recolouring the land.
The timeless feel here is not imagined: the “wild west” is home to the oldest rocks in Britain — the Lewisian gneiss, dating back about 3,000 million years. Mountains here outnumber people. Perhaps that’s not surprising: at the last count (2018), the population of the Highland Council region was 235,540 in an area of 9,906 square miles (25,657 sq. km).
My next stop is Ullapool. This friendly coastal town on the sheltered shore of Loch Broom offers the best of the north-west: good food and hospitality, live music, arts and crafts, a small museum, outdoor activities and boat trips to the Summer Isles. I grab brunch at Café Margot and take a walk along the waterfront. Then it’s back to the van and a 90-minute drive to Poolewe, with non-stop views along the way.
Inverewe Garden lies on the banks of Loch Ewe at Poolewe. The Gulf Stream brings milder weather to this isolated peninsula and provides the ideal climate for tree ferns and bamboos, banana plants and yuccas, Wollemi pines and rhododendrons. I spend the afternoon exploring gardens splashed with colour and filled with birdsong and the scents of curry leaves and pine resin.
On the return route, I stretch my legs at the Falls of Measach in the Corrieshalloch Gorge National Nature Reserve. A short walk from the car park takes me to the edge of the 60-metredeep gorge, across a narrow suspension bridge and on to a vertigo-inducing viewing platform.
All this walking has given me an appetite. Back in Ullapool, I head for the
Seafood Shack, a catering trailer with outdoor seating. It offers a mouth-watering menu of fresh local seafood, including the best-selling tempura haddock wrap with salad and lemon pesto mayo. I order hand-dived scallops in herb butter, served with salad and beetroot couscous. It tastes divine.
I camp at scenic Ardmair, just north of Ullapool. The sun sinks slowly beneath the headland as I breathe in the pure Highland air and watch the first stars appear in the blue-black sky.
Saturday: The eye of the storm
My final day of the North Coast 500 route takes me into the eye of a storm. Today will become Britain’s wettest day on record. Before the severe weather arrives, there’s time to visit Kinlochewe and the Beinn Eighe National Nature Reserve visitor centre. I hike the “Eagle” woodland trail past ancient woodland and rare Caledonian pines. A buzzard soars high above. On another day, it’s possible to see golden eagles, pine martens or even wildcats.
The wind and rain arrive as I follow the A896 to Torridon, a single-track road winding through a glacial valley crowned with spectacular rocky peaks. The NC500 route includes a drive around the Applecross Peninsula, with views across to the Isle of Skye. But it’s not safe to navigate the narrow switchbacks of the Bealach Na Bà pass in a campervan, so I detour at Shieldaig towards the larger village of Lochcarron.
I stop for coffee and a snack at the Waterside Café on the shore of Loch Carron, watching waves whipped to froth by the storm. I browse for gifts at the Smithy Hub, a lively community craft centre further east. Back on the road, the storm rises in drama, but the NC500 comes gently to an end as I follow the A832 towards Beauly, and the final 15 miles (25 km) back to Inverness. The scenery blurs in the rain, but my mind is clear with the memories of a very special road trip.