If, like me, you’re not a Highlander and/or you’ve never watched The Grand Tour on Prime, you’ve probably never heard of the NC500. When I told people I was doing the NC500 in June, most of them hadn’t a clue what I was on about. I’d have to explain that the NC500 stands for North Coast 500 – and it’s a 500-mile road-trip that takes you around the north coast of Scotland. A friend of mine by the name of Robert suggested it to me and some mates around Christmas last year. At the time, it was a pipe dream – one of those plans you put in a group chat that you all definitely agree to and then definitely don’t do. But for once, this idea had legs, and over the next few months our dream became reality. I sound like Simon Cowell with cringey lines like that.
Originally, we struggled to plan it because you have to think about places you want to visit, places your mates want to visit, how many cars are in the convoy, accommodation, fuel, the time it would take to actually get around the route and above all that – money. Also, have you ever tried getting time off work at the same time as 4 of your mates? Of course you have. It’s a ball-ache. Fortunately, an answer to a lot of our questions came one evening in April over a game of Chameleon (board game – try it. It’s brutal).
HIRE A MOTORHOME. Split between a group it’s really well priced, and it rolls your travel and accommodation and shower into one! Suddenly our fantasy lads road trip was booked.
T.W.A.T.S. were doing the NC500.
Behold! The biggest ever member of The Walking And Talking Society! Her name was Rimor the Fiat Seal 5 – a 2018 model who had room for six men inside her. Luckily for her, she only had to support five men – Rob Forshaw, Brendan Clayton, Joel Gardner, Andy Cox and myself. She cost us £686.40 for 6 days hire and we booked her through Camplify – which by the end of this holiday The Walking And Talking Society decided wholeheartedly no to endorse at all.
Brendan had picked her up from a man named Marc (nice guy) in Drighlington near Leeds, and driven across the Pennines to Andy Cox’s house where Andy, Joel, Rob and myself were eagerly awaiting his arrival. We were not disappointed. Giggling with excitement, we packed her up with suitcases and camping gear, chose our beds, cracked open some beers and fastened our seatbelts.
Five men in a motorhome hit the motorway and headed north.
It was nearly midnight on Saturday 1st June. Brendan had the wise idea of setting off asap – he and I had experience of knowing just how long it took to get to Scotland. We wanted to be at the start-point of the route in Inverness by 12pm on Sunday. Due to work commitments, we had to complete the NC500 and get the van back to Leeds by Friday, meaning essentially we had just 5 days to get around the route before returning it south. A tall order; and I agreed that we needed to drive part of the way to Inverness through the night.
Our drivers for the trip were Brendan, Joel and Rob. Andy and I had decided to remain in a steady state of intoxication throughout the holiday. As we sipped beer in the back with Joel, Brendan set a course for the border with Rob as his co-pilot.
VID’S TOP TIP: Each day, we had two guys on driving duty who weren’t allowed to drink any alcohol. You need a back-up driver if your main driver suddenly becomes unavailable – and in Scotland if you drink just a drop of alcohol, YOU ARE OVER THE LIMIT.
Of course, the best thing about late night driving is the lack of traffic – and after just 2 hours or so, we made it to Scotland. In a very empty Gretna Green, Brendan pulled over to let Rob have a first go at driving. The weary eyes in the back were suddenly wide in wonder – and Rob was nervous. But he successfully managed to drive us around town without crashing, and found us someone’s house to park outside of for the night. The plan was to leave early and get away without anyone seeing us. No shame. We aren’t made of money and we didn’t fancy paying to park overnight in a services. We did go to Gretna Green services though to have our breakfast.
Here is a first sign of a persona I didn’t expect to see on this holiday: Chef Andy. Today was Brendan’s day off and he joined the Backseat Boys for some Uno. After cereals were consumed, Rob continued his stint all the way to Perth. From there, Joel was at the wheel as we in the back cracked open the national drink.
It was around Perth that dual carriageways started to disappear, and a huge queue of cars started to appear behind Rimor. TBH, my feelings of shame were dwarfed by feelings of excitement. Also, Andy and I were too busy being taught how to play Unstable Unicorns by Brendan to care about traffic.
Around an hour from Inverness, Joel and Rob decided to spring a surprise on us by taking the van to Loch Morlich in Aviemore.
Joel and I had a wander along the rocks. Joel got his foot wet. I avoided an early bath.
It was a brief stop at the loch. It was half 1, and our target of being in Inverness for 12 noon was very much out of the window. Brendan was getting angsty. We needed to get back on the road, and the Backseat Boys needed to resume our frankly ferocious game of Unstable Unicorns. It’s a board-game that gets the Vid Stamp of Approval.
To deal with the stress of our lateness, Andy and Brendan started adding gin to their Iron Brus.
An hour later, we finally arrived in Inverness. Although we were now 2.5 hours behind schedule, we had to have a wander.
The footbridge over the River Ness was wobbly. I imagine it’s nightmarish when drunk.
Walking along the Ness, we bumped into a Scotsman in a kilt playing the bagpipes. Talk about setting the scene.
For most of the day, it had been typically grey and dismal. Classic Scottish weather, I suppose, and not at all like the weather Brendan and I had grown used to on our Highlands trip in April. But now we were in Inverness, the sun was starting to poke out, and I was starting to regret my choice of jeans and a jacket.
VID’S TOP TIP: It’s not always cold in Scotland.
After wandering up the high street, where Andy bought Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith, we were hungry and decided on a place called Johnny Foxes right next to the Ness Bridge.
Great news! They had Wi-Fi. Which meant we were pretty anti-social. Less so me and Andy, as we shared some absolutely delightful nachos.
Fed, Rob decided to head back to the van and finish off a job application, whereas Andy, Joel, Brendan and I headed up to the castle on the hill.
Inverness Castle is the start/finish point of the NC500. Remember that thing I mentioned at the start – the theme of this blog and its sequels? Well, 1200 words in and we’ve finally arrived at the START of the route. And we were behind schedule – it was now half 4. After taking some photos, we headed back down the road, put Rob in the driver’s seat and commenced.
We crossed the famous Kessock Bridge and at Tore roundabout, headed north. The Walking And Talking Society had decided to take the NC500 route anti-clockwise, which is the standard way of doing it. This way, our first planned stop on the tour was the stunning Dunrobin Castle, just over 53 miles north of Inverness. It’s definitely worth a visit if you’re doing the tour yourself – it was top of Brendan’s to-do list. But guess what? We were nearly 5 hours behind schedule and the castle was now closed. Day 1 and T.W.A.T.S. were already messing up the holiday.
Luckily, the coastal views made up for this disappointment. The skies had remained fairly clear and the light made the beaches and the ocean especially inviting. But we had to continue on. We needed to find somewhere to stay for the night.
We passed through Wick and eventually pulled over on the A99 not far from the Loch of Wester. Here’s me pretending I’m a driver.
This little parking place was our first experience of Scottish sparseness. It really felt like we were in the middle of nowhere, and only a handful of cars passed us in either direction. I suggested to Andy, who had needed a poo for a number of hours, to climb over the barbed wire and go behind some reeds in the field. Surprisingly, he scoffed at this idea. Unfortunately for him:
FIVE MEN IN A MOTORHOME RULE #1: Don’t shit in the van.
We had stopped to try and Google places to stay for the night, preferably on the shoreline. Our intended destination that Rob had typed into the satnav turned out to be private company land. Further on up the road was a village called Keiss with a harbour. It was worth a look.
Jackpot. Down a single track to the harbour was this huge passing point. It’s not advised that you camp in a passing point – frankly it’s a stupid and selfish idea, probably worth a Vid’s Top Tip…
VID’S TOP TIP: Don’t camp or park in passing points. It makes you look like a bellend.
However! This was a short one-way road to the sea in a small village. It was late, and we left a lot of space. I’m not asking for forgiveness but oh well. We didn’t trouble anyone.
As it had turned out, we had parked right next to a pathway that headed towards Old Keiss Castle, so while Andy broke Rule #1…
…I went for a wander.
On the pathway to the castle you’ll come across some WWII pillboxes, which people have apparently turned into picnic spots, considering all the rubbish that has been left behind.
Old Keiss Castle stands on a cliff. It’s now a ruin, having been replaced by New Keiss Castle a few hundred yards away, although it’s more of a mansion house than a castle. Due to the old castle’s crumbling nature, there is no access, so you’ll just have to enjoy the view from outside.
Anyway, it was time for tea. Chef Andy cooked up some pork loins and invented a cheesy, oniony gloop.
The Andy Cox Special. It was well presented and very nice! If you’d like to know the recipe, contact Andy Cox. #AndyCoxCreations.
And so it was time to sleep to the sound of crashing waves. The sound of heavy rain soon joined in. Tomorrow’s leg would include somewhere I have wanted to visit for a long, long time: John O’ Groats. Excited.
#VidOnTour 