Traditionally the North Coast 500 is a 516-mile tourist route that hugs the vast coastline of northern Scotland, and in its serpentine course includes some of the most scenic seascapes and landscapes on the planet, and in the Scottish Highlands as well. Maps show it as a large roughly circular route that starts and ends in Inverness, as our trip did, but bypasses Edinburgh and Glencoe since they are farther south. In planning our trip, we used the traditional NC500 as inspiration for preparing our own itinerary that included Edinburgh, Skye, the Isle of Lewis and Harris, and the Orkney Islands. Ultimately, we drove 1,430 miles over 15 days. Roughly 95 miles per day, which was a very manageable pace and offered plenty of opportunities to visit sites and explore. We used Arnold Clark for our car hire and were quite pleased with their pricing and service. Visit Scotland has a great website that outlines 15 other scenic driving routes that will get your wheels spinning. We hope you enjoy this first part of trip that we fondly call the D&C1430.

By this point in our trip, we had already been in Scotland for four days, but really considered this the first day of our Highlands adventure. Leaving Edinburgh and the Fringe Festival behind us, we zipped past the Kelpies. You have to be mindful of the speed limits while driving on the roads in the United Kingdom, as there are speed cameras everywhere. But it seems to be a lenient system where your speed is averaged between two points, so if you enter the camera zone above the speed limit you have a chance to compensate for the error by slowing down. Five months on and we have not yet received any notices of fines, but it did take some getting used to.

The morning was gray. The plan for the day was to visit several intriguing sculptures around Cumbernauld, head to Stirling Castle, and spend the night in the small village of Kippen. Luckily, we had stopped at the Kelpies several days earlier, on a beautiful afternoon, as we drove into Edinburgh. The 100ft tall equestrian statues are located in Helix Park at the confluence of the Clyde Canal and the River Carron. The steel horseheads are the largest in the world, and were created by the internationally acclaimed Scottish sculptor, Andy Scott. They are based on Scottish folklore;  a kelpie is a dangerous shape-shifting water spirit that appears on land as a horse, who entices its unsuspecting victim to ride on its back, only to be sped away to a watery grave. 

We used to purchase guidebooks to research our travels, but now rely mostly on internet research and Instagram. We have found Google Maps to be a great tool and use it to find many points of interest that seem to fly under the radar. We highlight them as favorites on the app and then connect the dots for our itinerary.

That’s how we planned our first stop of the day at another artwork conceived by Andy Scott – Arria, the Angel of the ‘Nauld,’ or the Steel Mermaid. The sculpture appeared quickly above the tree line along the M80 then vanished from view like a mirage. There was not any signage to the sculpture, but we eventually found ourselves at the back corner of the Eastfield Cemetery in Cumbernauld, where a path led through the woods to the 33ft tall steel figure.        

The graceful sweep of the split tail combining as one is meant to represent the original meaning of Cumbernauld. In Gaelic ‘Comar nan Allt’, means the merging of water, which represents the town’s two rivers flowing into the Forth and Clyde.  The figure offers, with outstretched arms, the rivers as her gift of life to the earth. Encircling the base of the sculpture is the poem by ‘Watershed’ by Jim Carruth.

The first sounds spoken, from the spring’s core, are of a new beginning, of people and place,

a poetry that bubbles and gargles to the surface, to leave this watershed, flow east and west,

in a rush of words, that tumble and fall, to join the conversations, of two great rivers,

a voice calling out, I belong I belong, adding to the language of sea and ocean.

The name was chosen from a local school competition. Arria was the mother of the Roman Emperor Antoninus Pius, who in AD 142 built a series of forts along the Antonine Wall which crossed Scotland from the River Forth to the River Clyde and marked the Roman Empire’s most northern frontier. The Romans only held it for thirty years before Scottish tribes forced them to flee to safety farther south behind Hadrian’s Wall.

A short distance farther on we pulled down a narrow country track bordered by fields and horse pastures to a trailhead for Croy Hill, where soldiers were once stationed in a fort along the Antonine Wall. The only remainder of that era is an 18ft tall steel sculpture of a Roman centurion, created by the Edinburgh artist, Svetlana Kondakova, in 2021. Today 78 miles of trails along the wall welcome distance hikers, dog walkers and equestrians to explore the ancient history of the area.

Hunger called and we found refuge along a quiet pedestrian lane in Kilsyth, at Scarecrow Bar & Grill. It had friendly staff, good food, and was a nice place to relax before heading to Stirling Castle.

The Saturday crowd was tapering off by the time we arrived, around 3:00 pm, and we were able to park conveniently at the top of the hill next to the entrance. The ancient castle was entwined throughout Scotland’s epic history. Situated dramatically on a volcanic outcrop, the castle was built in the early 1100’s to guard the shallowest fording point across the River Forth, which divides the lowlands from the highlands. Over the centuries nearly ever Scottish monarch has paced the halls and ramparts of this mighty castle. Alexander I, Mary Queen of Scots, James IV, V & VI, William Wallace, Robert the Bruce, Margaret Tudor, and Bonnie Prince Charlie are just a few of the dozens of Kings and Queens who have called the castle home and most likely cursed the food, from the dungeon like kitchen, along with the wet weather and wind, while warming their bones next to one of the castle’s numerous fireplaces.

Many reconfigurations and additions have happened to the castle over the centuries. One of the most significant was the building of the Great Hall by James IV in 1501. This cavernous structure measuring, 138ft by 47ft, has five walk-in fireplaces, and a unique hammer beam roof, which resembles the inside of a wooden boat hull,. It was used to host royal banquets, weddings, christenings and meetings of state. One lavish event featured a specially built wooden boat with 40ft tall masts, and 36 brass canons, which were fired in celebration. After the smoke cleared and the guests stopped coughing, a seafood banquet was served from it. And, I’m assuming, the party planner lost his head the next day. Centuries later it was used as a stable before being renovated and used as a military barracks until the 1960’s.

Touring the rooms of the palace was the highlight of our visit to Stirling Castle. They were noticeably better furnished than Edinburgh Castle and the Palace of Holyroodhouse. Gorgeous tapestries were displayed throughout and the ceiling of one main rooms featured replicas of the famous 37 “Stirling Heads.” They were quite an unusual embellishment for a royal residence, depicting mythical heroes, historical Scots, and everyday people.

The original three-foot wide portrait medallions, often referred to as “Scotland’s other Crown Jewels,” were carved from solid oak in the 16th century, and are on exhibit in the castle’s gallery. The new medallions, installed on the ceiling in 2011, were painstakingly recreated over a six-year period by the master wood sculptor John Donaldson and then painted in a renaissance style, appropriate to the era, by artist Graciela Ainsworth.

It’s always debatable how far out we should make our hotel bookings. Six months out for hotel reservations is what we normally do, and it usually works very well, but surprisingly to our dismay most of our first-choice hotels in prime locations were already fully booked by then. 

Which is how we arrived at The Inn at Kippen in time for dinner. Kippen is a quaint crossroads village west of Stirling and was a wonderful off-the-beaten track discovery. The first public record of Kippen appears in the 1300’s when the village church is mentioned. But its heyday was in the 18th century when it was stagecoach stop along a military road between Stirling and Balloch.

The Kippen is a historic coaching Inn and continues the friendly tradition of welcoming travelers, with a dog-friendly bar and restaurant on the first floor and five well-appointed rooms on the second. The hosts pride themselves on sourcing all meats, fish and produce locally and the menu changes accordingly with the seasons. Our dinner, as well as breakfast the next morning, was delicous.

A bright early sunrise encouraged us to quickly dress and amble around the quiet village, and enjoy views pf the countryside before breakfast. We then continued our drive west into the Highlands.

Glencoe was the day’s ultimate destination, but with us it’s never a straight drive. We are always zigging, zagging, detouring and stopping for photos along the way. The view as we crossed a bridge over the Eas Gobhain, a river that flows from Loch Venachar into Callander, was beautiful, so we U-turned and parked. Our timing was perfect, as we caught photos of kayakers out for a Sunday paddle.

Afterwards, we stopped at a riverside park called the Meadows that was a popular spot for feeding the ducks and for fishing from the riverbank.

The A84 is the main route into the Highlands from Stirling and passes through Callander. We followed it west through a rolling landscape that gently changed to mountains covered by pine forests. Brilliant sunlight reflected off the water and glistened through the trees as we stopped at Loch Lubnaig. Our first Highland loch! We were captivated by the crystal blue lake shimmering in the sun, before a background of verdant mountain and clear sky.

We had read about the Highlands being unbearably full of tourists during the summer months, but hadn’t really noticed it until trying to find a parking space. This became a recurring issue during our trip. While the roads were not congested, the small parking areas were, and there was often a queue for a spot if you arrived later in the day.

We veered off the route to see the Falls of Dochart, and the Clan Macnab Burial Grounds on an island in the river at the village of Killin. While many local folks apologized for the unusually rainy August weather, it was surely beneficial to the rivers, which were running high, and the spectacular waterfalls.

The earliest note of the Clan Macnab goes back to 1124 during the reign of David I, the 9th King of Scotland. It was a rather violent clan known for beheading its defeated enemies, which is rather surprising considering the clan descended from an Abbot of Strathfillan. But occasionally they backed the wrong cause and famously fought against Robert the Bruce in 1306, and subsequently forfeited most of their extensive territory, which encompassed land between the village of Tyndrum and the south-west corner of Loch Tay, until their property rights were reinstated by King David II in 1336.

Across the Highlands, the clans notoriously pillaged villages and stole livestock from each other in a vicious cycle of attack and revenge. One episode is best illustrated in a description, by the Clan Macnab Society, of the Battle of Glenboultachan in 1522 between the Macnab and the Neish clans, after the Neishes initiated a major raid on the Macnab herds. “As the Macnabs rushed downhill they threw away their plaids and, naked apart from their brogues, flung themselves upon the Neishes. The Neishes threw off their plaids as well, and soon the glen was packed with naked, screaming warriors locked in mortal combat.” I can only image they wished to keep their clothes from being shredded. Ninety years later, only two young Neishes survived the swords of the Macnab’s after a retaliatory attack for a Christmas season ambush. The A85 now passes the site at Little Port Farm where the epic fight took place. 

As we continued west the pine covered slopes faded from green to hills and moorlands covered in the pink, purple, and lavender colors of flowering heather shrubs in full bloom, and the yellow and amber of late summer grasses. Vast areas were a treeless wilderness without signs of habitation. The clouds slightly thickened and their shadows raced across the panorama. Patiently we waited with our cameras ready at the Buachaille Etive Mòr car park for the sun to break through and were rewarded with dramatic shots of endless landscape. We stopped along the way so many times that it seemed we were not making any progress toward Glencoe. 

At the National Trust for Scotland – Glencoe Visitor Centre we encountered our first highland cows, or hairy coos as the Scots like to say. With how heavily these wonderful animals are used in advertising to promote Scottish tourism, we thought there would be abundant herds of the coos everywhere. But that was not the case, and based on our experience, I swear these two hairy coos were the only ones in the Highlands. We did see some from a great distance in the northern Highlands later in the trip, although they were so far away that they could have been plywood silhouettes of the beasts. And I can just imagine an elderly pensioner exclaiming to his wife, “those silly tourists stopped again to take photos of our fake coos. If I had a Two pence for every time someone stopped, we’d be vacationing on the Rock of Gibraltar this winter.”

Beyond the coos stood a re-creation of an ancient highlander turf and creel house. Sturdy log framing was built atop thick walls of insulating turf and then covered on the inside with a basket-like weaving of freshly cut and still pliable ‘green’ wood. The steep roof framing was then covered with a thinner layer of turf and thatched with heather. The dwellings had high peaked interiors and were built without windows or a chimney. The only ventilation for the cooking fire, in an open stone hearth, was through one or two low entries that would be covered with skins to protect the inside from the fierce wind, snow and rain of the highlands, along with attempting to contain the heat thrown off by the fire inside. In an 1822 letter to a friend, a Londoner traveling through the region snarkily described a creel house, “smoke came pouring out through the ribs and roof all over; but chiefly out at the door, which was not four feet high, so that the whole made the appearance of a fuming dunghill.”

It was in homes like this creel house that one of the greatest atrocities against the Scots was committed by the English. On February 13, 1692, in Glencoe, Clan MacDonald extended their hospitality and opened their homes to 120 Redcoats. On orders sent from John Dalrymple, the Earl of Argyll, the night before, the soldiers were ordered to “kill all,” and “not to trouble the government with prisoners,” at 5 the next morning. The Earl of Argyll suspected the chief of the clan opposed the new monarch William III, and the MacDonald Chief was not prompt in pledging allegiance to the new king, after James II was deposed during the Glorious Revolution of 1688, for supporting the Catholic religion. It was also an opportunity for the Earl, a Campbell, to settle a long-standing clan feud with the MacDonalds.

Thirty-eight innocent men, women, and children were massacred as dawn broke. Another forty died in the snow as they fled into mountains trying to escape. After the tragedy, several British army officers were court martialed for refusing to follow the heinous order. The poor Earl, who was also the Secretary of State for Scotland at the time, was only told to resign. It’s difficult to imagine that this tranquil valley holds such tragedy. This verse from the poem Glencoe by Douglas Alexander Stewart, says it well. 

Sigh, wind in the pine,
Cover it with snow;
But terrible things were done
Long, long ago.

A memorial to the MacDonald Clan stands on the Upper Carnoch road in the village.

After we settled in at the Beechwood Cottage B&B for a two-night stay, and admired the view of Sgorr na Ciche mountain from our window, our host offered to make early dinner reservations for us, relating that during the high season, the restaurants fill quickly and it’s not like Edinburgh where things stay open late. In Glencoe everything closes early and without dinner reservations, there is usually an impossible queue. Following her recommendation, we enjoyed the view of Lock Leven from the restaurant at the Isles of Glencoe Hotel, while having a wonderful dinner and a decadent dessert.

We should have listened more closely to our host’s tip about parking at the Glenfinnan Viaduct to photograph the old Jacobite Steam Train, often referred to as Harry Potter’s Hogwarts Express. Our host suggested it would be wise to arrive an hour before the train is scheduled to cross the bridge, as there are usually hundreds of folks wanting to do the same thing, and it takes a while to hike up the hill to find the right observation point. Well, we were the last car in line before they closed the gate to the Glenfinnan Car Park. Folks who were willing to walk a greater distance back resorted to all sorts of creative and illegal parking along the shoulder of the road. We searched for a while, but the historic area never envisioned the mass tourism that the Harry Potter train brings to the region when the line was constructed in the 1880’s. It began to rain.

For Plan B we backtracked to the Corpach Caol shipwreck on the shore of Loch Linnhe, near the Caledonian Canal Locks, just west of Fort William. The rain lessened as we walked across the locks and along a stoney beach to the evocative wreck silhouetted against Ben Nevis, the tallest mountain in the United Kingdom. The wreck of the old fishing trawler has rested on the beach since 2011, when a fierce storm broke the boat from its mooring, miles away, farther down the loch in Camusnagaul Bay, where a new owner was renovating it to liveaboard.

Afterwards we headed back, across the canal, to a small café for coffee and a reprieve from the rain that had started again and decided to try our luck one more time at the Glenfinnan Viaduct. We planned to be there very early for the afternoon crossing of the train. We secured a parking space easily enough, even though it was beginning to rain harder, and followed the other mad fools as intent as we down a long heavily mudded track. It rained harder. And harder. We thanked our lucky stars that we had invested heavily in completely waterproof jackets for this trip. The rain finally deterred us from continuing up the slope to those spots from which all the iconic photos of the steam train puffing across the curve of the viaduct are taken. Instead, we claimed a spot, under a tree, along the stream that runs through a valley, and stood there stoically like hairy coos in a drenching downpour. That in Gaelic is called a Goselet. One of the infinite number of words that the Scots use to describe their finicky weather.  It was a bust! The train stopped mid span for a minute, for us paparazzi-like tourists to snap away, but the sky was so grey and low that the steam from the engine was indiscernible from the gloom. Our young grandson, having just finished reading all the Harry Potter books, was delighted to see our photos that we texted to him later that day.

By the time we finished a late lunch at The Lochy, a nice unpretentious pub, with some very good value daily specials, the morning storm had cleared, and we headed back to Glencoe. We didn’t get far before we came to a halt at the lowered gates of a railroad crossing. Imagine our surprise when  the Jacobite Steam Train passed in front of us in all its steaming glory in the bright afternoon sun.

We capped the day wandering about closer to Glencoe, exploring various shorelines and St. John’s Scottish Episcopalian Church in Ballachulish. The original church on the site is actually the smaller stone building to the left. It was a storage shed before it was donated to the church and consecrated for use as a sanctuary in 1770. The larger old stone church was built in 1842 and is surrounded by an interesting cemetery.

Till next time, Craig & Donna

Timetable for the Jacobite Steam Train

The Scotland Explorer Pass helped with the price of admission to many sites across the country.

Visit Scotland – Where to see Highland cows in Scotland