A well-traveled route along Scotland’s northern coast attracts many drivers, but exploring by public transport and foot reveals much more
At Chanonry Point near Inverness, the UK’s premier dolphin-spotting site from land, there’s a festive atmosphere around the lighthouse. An hour after low tide, the scene is filled with pipers, picnics, and children playing barefoot on the expansive evening sands. Even in late spring, the sun barely dips below the horizon in the Highlands. The pebbles, adorned with kelp, shimmer as I stroll from the bus stop near Fortrose Cathedral (accessible by bus 26/26A from Inverness) along one side of the headland. Despite the dolphins not making an appearance, it doesn’t dampen the experience – it’s simply the first of many reasons to come back. The beach is still illuminated as I walk back for the 9 pm bus, passing by wild lupins with vistas of Fort George and pink clouds over the Moray Firth. I’m in Inverness, embarking on a week-long exploration of Scotland’s rugged north coast by train and bus.
The North Coast 500 has become a victim of its own success since its inception in 2015, emulating the style of America’s Route 66. This 516-mile circular road trip around northern Scotland attracts thousands of drivers and motorhome enthusiasts annually to its narrow roads with bottleneck passing places. Locals lament that the route’s popularity has led to increased house prices and now speak in terms of pre- and post-NC500 eras. A handful of cyclists tackle all or portions of the route by bike. I’m exploring parts of it using public transport and on foot, which requires some careful planning. While I’m accustomed to the mild frustration of missing an hourly bus, missing a weekly service is a different challenge. But first, there’s an epic railway journey to savor.
The Far North Line meanders past coastal areas, woodlands, moors, and mountains during its four-hour journey from Inverness to Thurso (advance tickets priced at £16 each way, available at scotrail.co.uk). At one end of Cromarty Firth, one of three expansive estuaries, reedbeds, waterbirds, and hares in the tall grass create a picturesque scene. The opposite end is dotted with decommissioned oil rigs, brought here when not in use in the North Sea. Across the expanse of Dornoch Firth, Skibo Castle comes into view, a grand baronial mansion once owned by steel magnate Andrew Carnegie. Further along, a charming half-timbered station house and glimpses of turrets among the trees signal our approach to Dunrobin Castle. Between Brora and Helmsdale, the railway hugs the coastline, offering views of miles of empty beaches and rocks teeming with cormorants.
In the heart of the expansive Flow Country, known for its blanket bogs, we make a stop at Forsinard. Here, the former station house has been converted into an RSPB visitor center, and a well-maintained trail takes us through lochans teeming with birdlife. As we pass, some children on the path wave enthusiastically at the train, and a deer dashes by. The map, with its gothic lettering, points out “broch, broch, hut circle, cairn,” highlighting the ancient features of the landscape. Although I can usually only spot the more recent circular sheepfolds, it’s evident that this is a vast and age-old terrain. Additionally, the North Coast visitor center in Thurso houses intricately carved Pictish stones and Viking shield bosses, adding to the area’s historical richness.
After a half-hour onward journey, passing through moorland covered in cotton grass and punctuated by shimmering lochs, I reach Melvich on bus 803. I stroll through the dunes to the beach, where oystercatchers soar above waves tinged with peat. In nearby Portskerra, I find purple orchids, columbines, and carpets of squill with starry sky-blue flowers lining a clifftop path. The clear, sheltered waters of the harbour invite a refreshing high-tide dip. As I warm up in the Coastline Coffee Shop, I express concern to a fellow swimmer about potentially missing the twice-daily weekday bus along the coast tomorrow. She chuckles and reassures me, suggesting that someone would likely offer me a lift.
An hour after low tide, the scene is lively with pipers, picnickers, and barefoot children running across the expansive evening sands
The following morning, I successfully board bus 274 to Bettyhill, where the Strathnaver Museum has recently reopened after a significant renovation in April 2023. Housed in a former church near the white sands of Farr Bay, the museum showcases a range of artifacts, from a Bronze Age beaker to a dog-skin buoy. It offers extensive information on Clan Mackay and the Highland Clearances, which remain deeply poignant for many local residents. One woman, whose grandfather was among those displaced, expresses a strong resentment towards sheep. Later, while walking along serene lanes near Tongue, I come across a roadside memorial honoring the local Gaelic poet Ewen Robertson. His verses poignantly depict the impact of the clearances, condemning the sheep and the deceitful duke for turning Sutherland into a desert.
From Tongue, I embark on a four-mile trek to Kinloch Lodge, where a group is gathering for a hike. Along the way, I pass by blue milkwort flowers and fragrant bog myrtle, eventually reaching the remote Loch an Dithreibh. The hike is organized by the team from Feragaia, known for their unique alcohol-free Scottish spirit, distilled in Fife using a variety of plants such as west coast sugar kelp, lemon verbena, and blackcurrant leaves sourced from a farm in Perthshire. Leading the hike is a ranger from Wildland, a conservation project renowned for its work in restoring woods and wetlands, as showcased in David Attenborough’s Wild Isles.
Kinloch Lodge, our accommodation, is part of Wildland’s collection of upscale properties. Surrounding us, the numerous peaks of Ben Loyal are either capped with clouds or bathed in the warm glow of a sunset. Other lodging options in the area include the Tongue Hotel, a Victorian lodge featuring wood paneling, cozy fires, and mountain vistas, recently renovated by the Highland Coast Hotels group (starting at £158 for a double room with breakfast). Additionally, there’s a hostel located right on the coast near the expansive Kyle of Tongue (starting at £70 for a double room, room-only).
The following day, I follow a marked trail crossing the rust-red Rhian Burn, passing streamside bluebells and bright yellow broom flowers, leading up to Castle Varrich. The steel viewing platform, installed by Wildland in 2017, offers vistas of mountains and the sea loch. Returning to the village, I encounter gnarled beech trees, duck eggs for sale, a solitary fisherman on the weathered pier, and Tongue House, another former stronghold of Clan Mackay. The Norse Bakehouse serves up homely Italian fare, and the garden offers a stunning view of the sea, framed by blue and gold, one of many picturesque seascapes in the area.
Tomorrow, I’ll depart via Inverness, where the Caledonian Sleeper, now operated by the Scottish government, departs six nights a week (seats from £55 Inverness to Crewe and London Euston). Walking to the bus stop in Tongue the next morning, I pass rocks covered in heather with peculiar markings, and the bright sunshine keeps the midges away. Walking has allowed me to notice many things I might have missed if I had driven: a marbled white butterfly on the coconut-scented gorse, wood sorrel beneath lime-green birches, the gentle murmur of mountain streams, and the hoarse call of a cuckoo echoing through the valley.
