Critique / suggestions for a Scottish road trip
Discussion
loskie said:
Great to see folks enjoying Scotland but please be reminded that it's not a theme park or playground for the privileged.
Good point, well made. Whilst we enjoyed ourselves in the NSL sections, we were very careful and courteous through towns, even the ones with a daft 20mph limit. I suspect we cheesed off more locals by doing close to 20mph than we did by any of the hooning….There were one or two dawdlers that didn’t take kindly to being overtaken by a noisy sports car, but I guess any local living anywhere near the NC500 will be used to it. We were solo for the whole trip, but I imagine a large group of exotica having fun can grate a bit.
PS - it’s a cheap Aston, so I’d never say I was ‘privileged’
Nigel_O said:
What were you driving / riding? Despite the weather, we saw a few nice cars en-route. Couple of Lotii (Elise, Emira), various Porsches, another Aston, a lurid green Maclaren.
I seem to recall we were travelling at a fair pace eastbound after the intermediate singletrack stuff further west
I seem to recall we were travelling at a fair pace eastbound after the intermediate singletrack stuff further west
I was in a Highland Council Pickup. 
Leggerly said:
I was in a Highland Council Pickup. Leggerly said:
I was in a Highland Council Pickup. My son mentioned that someone coming the other way looked at our car ‘making progress’ and had a wide grin on their face. I was too busy enjoying myself to pay close attention to oncoming traffic…
Nigel_O said:
Leggerly said:
I was in a Highland Council Pickup. My son mentioned that someone coming the other way looked at our car making progress and had a wide grin on their face. I was too busy enjoying myself to pay close attention to oncoming traffic
TVRBRZ said:
Leggerly said:
I was in a Highland Council Pickup. loskie said:
Early 90s Kirkcudbrightshire. My Astra D Merit all 65 odd BHP.
As a 20 ish AI man working for the Scottish Milk Marketing Board I was fastest in my county!!
No one needs a Supercar!!
If only your Astra had been the high roof van (the fabled Astramax). They were the fastest vehicle on the roads in those days.As a 20 ish AI man working for the Scottish Milk Marketing Board I was fastest in my county!!
No one needs a Supercar!!
Time for my long overdue, and long-winded, write up of my experience on this trip - mine should contain fewer photos as they’re much the same as Dad’s.
[interrupt] I’ve just finished writing and it’s a bloody long one, sorry! [/interrupt]
“Tales from the passenger seat: Chapter One”
Firstly, as soft as it may appear, I want to publicly acknowledge Dad’s willingness to let me loose with hismid life crisis motoring investment. I do not take it for granted, and appreciate that I was allowed to drive half, give or take, of a long trip.
That said, I’ve become spoilt by automatic dailies, so perhaps the car was pleased every time I was sat on the left seat…
Dad spent a long time planning the route, I was somewhat preoccupied with a nuptial distraction, with learning from 2024’s (much sunnier) version of the trip. We wanted to do the ‘same’ journey, but not repeat it completely - hence the reverse direction, and off-piste diversions.
We always knew ‘the commute’ north from home was unlikely to be interesting, so used the Kelpies as something to aim toward.
I’m very glad I didn’t have to drive through the traffic in Glasgow rush hour - I’m not one of those journo-types who can just fold myself into a car and drive it as if it were my own. Takes me a while to get used to clutches etc. Just ask Dad and his most recent maintenance invoice…
“The best laid plans…”
like all road trips, the time taken is rarely as regimented as that on paper, so once we’d wriggled free of Glasgow’s rush-hour embrace, time was ticking to catch our ferry along the south edge of Loch Long to our firstfetid charming hotel.
Now, I - by my own admission - am a really bad passenger, but Dad’s driving has always satisfied my nervousness. That said, during our route west of the M8 headed toward Gourock, I noticed his piloting becoming more… erratic. Slowly at first, his IAM licensed prowess sank lower and lower until eventually I was pressing that phantom brake pedal in the passenger footwell.
“We’ve got loads of time until the ferry”, I desperately squawk, gripping so hard on the door pull that I’m sure you could get a fingerprint out of the metal. Turns out, a 64 year old bladder isn’t as reliable as a 34 year old one, and he dumps the car on the side of the road and exercises his right to roam.
He returns (after a worrying amount of time) a man anew. His calm driving demeanour restored, and my stress levels subsided. An eventless ferry journey later and we arrive at our first night’s dwelling. I must’ve got the deluxe room, because mine came with a curtain AND some drawers
“The road less travelled… for a reason!”
Each morning of this trip we would discuss the day’s plans between mouthfuls of varyingly-pleasant cooked breakfasts. This trip was probably 80/20 driving vs sightseeing, so we only had small itineraries each day: ‘get here by 12, photos at X location’ etc.
After a long, slow, loop along what was a effectively a goat track with some tarmac on it, we knew there would be several times we’d find ourselves on the infamous single tracks - but this one didn’t even have passing places. After a stressy 2 hours navigating someone else’s pride and joy along The Seven Circles of Scotland we felt the need to stop before the next A Road and check underneath the car for damage. Lessons learned…
A small - and very well timed - break in the deluge meant we could enjoy a waddle around Oban, as well as the stop at McCaig’s Tower, where dad got that amazing drone shot, and I found a friend
‘Purchase of the trip’ goes to the foam neck pillow I bought. Seems AM didn’t consider people of above-average height, so my rapidly-aging frame was crying for support as I got knee pain if I rested it on the centre console, and hip pain if I supported my own leg. £9.99 of Mountain Warehouse’s finest to stuff between my thigh and the centre tunnel!
We’d made it barely 36 hours into the journey, but Dad could take it no longer! Not my driving, understandable as that may be, but the dirt. A point was made to find the nearest cleaning facility before our second night
“Harry Potter and the Penalty Charge Notice”
After the… character building experience of night one, the following hotel was akin to winning the euromillions, so fresh faced we left early, the third day was the only one with real ‘hard points’ of time. The Jacobite train and our ferry to Skye.
I couldn’t believe the sheer amount of people who had hiked to see the train chuff and whistle its way over the viaduct, but I had to see it - I grew up with those books! Short on time we get back to the car, only to learn about Scotland’s enforced rules about parking (partially) on a pavement
We needn’t have rushed, because inclement conditions stopped the ferry, so we suddenly had a longer drive from Glenfinnan to the Skye Road bridge. I didn’t take a single photo on Skye, mainly because we struggled to see much past the wipers. Slightly dejected, after an unenjoyable afternoon, we stumbled into the third hotel.
“A parting in the clouds”
Today was mostly wide open roads, with the occasional wide open throttle to match. Dry roads, and double digit temperatures, after a bleak end to yesterday, things were looking up. Another ‘driving only’ day from Balmacara, around the Applecross loop which we avoided in ‘24, north to Kylesku for the next night.
I am the odd one in my family, I appear to be the only one not affected by heights. So, I hatched a plan, knowing we were going past the Corrieshalloch Gorge we visited, I requested we go again. “I’ve got this new camera lens to try” I said, hoping dad had forgotten about the rickety bridge over the vertiginous chasm, and it’s far-too-short barrier that stops Joe Public from plunging to their demise
The bridge only shook once dad stepped onto it. Must’ve been the wind…
“The Long Way Round”
Kylesku was a bit of a treat, in terms of cost. We thought we deserved it after that night next to the toilets on day one - so furthered the indulgence with my first ever salmon breakfast, overlooking a blustery Loch Gleann Dubh
Time for the long slog of driving. You saw on Dad’s map, Kylesku all the way, zig-zagging up and down along various bits of single track before heading south down the A9 with our final overnight halt.
Last time, I was in the doghouse for not bringing back a tacky Christmas trinket from John o’ Groats - but I’m married now, it’s SWMBO officially! But we planned to avoid that North Eastern corner to save a bit of time on the longest driving day.
‘Yes Dear’ I say, as I report to the captain that we need to add nearly 3 hours onto our day. All was not for naught, however, as we got a glimpse of this rare (and tiny) relic. it was definitely the first I’d ever seen!
Dad tempted his luck as we battled with the wind, I was watching the crashing waves from a distance. He, however:
As many of you know, the A9 is a rather thumb-twiddling jaunt, especially after such a thorough exploration of the Highlands and its various grades of roads. And so, as we pull into the ‘car park’ of the Nethybridge hotel, our trip was at an end. We deliberately chose this, our first stop on the previous trip, as a safe bet - hardly 5 stars, but a quaint, slightly dated, comfy feel. Clearly some of you felt the same way as we gatecrashed each others’ trips. Another first as I had haggis, looked a bit suspect, but was glorious!
“Sod’s Law”
Now it’s sunny!
The final drive, Scotland to Staffordshire. Our final bit of nice road was the Old Military Road, pretty much the motivation for these two trips, based upon the old video by Catchpole in the Vantage.
A very enjoyable morning, bright sunshine - but greasy roads got me the first and only telling-off of the trip as I barrelled over a crest relying a little too much on the sat nav map. I collected it all with deft adeptness, but Dad had to admonish me like I was 7 again…
(I promise that was the only cloudy bit of the day. Sunglasses all the way home, honest!)
And that’s all she wrote, an infuriatingly sunny and balmy drive home, including just a brief stint on the motorway before our junction off the M6:
I definitely should’ve done this essay before now, as it’s now a bit of a blur - but if you read all this way, thanks very much! Onto planning the next one?
[interrupt] I’ve just finished writing and it’s a bloody long one, sorry! [/interrupt]
“Tales from the passenger seat: Chapter One”
Firstly, as soft as it may appear, I want to publicly acknowledge Dad’s willingness to let me loose with his
That said, I’ve become spoilt by automatic dailies, so perhaps the car was pleased every time I was sat on the left seat…
Dad spent a long time planning the route, I was somewhat preoccupied with a nuptial distraction, with learning from 2024’s (much sunnier) version of the trip. We wanted to do the ‘same’ journey, but not repeat it completely - hence the reverse direction, and off-piste diversions.
We always knew ‘the commute’ north from home was unlikely to be interesting, so used the Kelpies as something to aim toward.
I’m very glad I didn’t have to drive through the traffic in Glasgow rush hour - I’m not one of those journo-types who can just fold myself into a car and drive it as if it were my own. Takes me a while to get used to clutches etc. Just ask Dad and his most recent maintenance invoice…
“The best laid plans…”
like all road trips, the time taken is rarely as regimented as that on paper, so once we’d wriggled free of Glasgow’s rush-hour embrace, time was ticking to catch our ferry along the south edge of Loch Long to our first
Now, I - by my own admission - am a really bad passenger, but Dad’s driving has always satisfied my nervousness. That said, during our route west of the M8 headed toward Gourock, I noticed his piloting becoming more… erratic. Slowly at first, his IAM licensed prowess sank lower and lower until eventually I was pressing that phantom brake pedal in the passenger footwell.
“We’ve got loads of time until the ferry”, I desperately squawk, gripping so hard on the door pull that I’m sure you could get a fingerprint out of the metal. Turns out, a 64 year old bladder isn’t as reliable as a 34 year old one, and he dumps the car on the side of the road and exercises his right to roam.
He returns (after a worrying amount of time) a man anew. His calm driving demeanour restored, and my stress levels subsided. An eventless ferry journey later and we arrive at our first night’s dwelling. I must’ve got the deluxe room, because mine came with a curtain AND some drawers
“The road less travelled… for a reason!”
Each morning of this trip we would discuss the day’s plans between mouthfuls of varyingly-pleasant cooked breakfasts. This trip was probably 80/20 driving vs sightseeing, so we only had small itineraries each day: ‘get here by 12, photos at X location’ etc.
After a long, slow, loop along what was a effectively a goat track with some tarmac on it, we knew there would be several times we’d find ourselves on the infamous single tracks - but this one didn’t even have passing places. After a stressy 2 hours navigating someone else’s pride and joy along The Seven Circles of Scotland we felt the need to stop before the next A Road and check underneath the car for damage. Lessons learned…
A small - and very well timed - break in the deluge meant we could enjoy a waddle around Oban, as well as the stop at McCaig’s Tower, where dad got that amazing drone shot, and I found a friend
‘Purchase of the trip’ goes to the foam neck pillow I bought. Seems AM didn’t consider people of above-average height, so my rapidly-aging frame was crying for support as I got knee pain if I rested it on the centre console, and hip pain if I supported my own leg. £9.99 of Mountain Warehouse’s finest to stuff between my thigh and the centre tunnel!
We’d made it barely 36 hours into the journey, but Dad could take it no longer! Not my driving, understandable as that may be, but the dirt. A point was made to find the nearest cleaning facility before our second night
“Harry Potter and the Penalty Charge Notice”
After the… character building experience of night one, the following hotel was akin to winning the euromillions, so fresh faced we left early, the third day was the only one with real ‘hard points’ of time. The Jacobite train and our ferry to Skye.
I couldn’t believe the sheer amount of people who had hiked to see the train chuff and whistle its way over the viaduct, but I had to see it - I grew up with those books! Short on time we get back to the car, only to learn about Scotland’s enforced rules about parking (partially) on a pavement
We needn’t have rushed, because inclement conditions stopped the ferry, so we suddenly had a longer drive from Glenfinnan to the Skye Road bridge. I didn’t take a single photo on Skye, mainly because we struggled to see much past the wipers. Slightly dejected, after an unenjoyable afternoon, we stumbled into the third hotel.
“A parting in the clouds”
Today was mostly wide open roads, with the occasional wide open throttle to match. Dry roads, and double digit temperatures, after a bleak end to yesterday, things were looking up. Another ‘driving only’ day from Balmacara, around the Applecross loop which we avoided in ‘24, north to Kylesku for the next night.
I am the odd one in my family, I appear to be the only one not affected by heights. So, I hatched a plan, knowing we were going past the Corrieshalloch Gorge we visited, I requested we go again. “I’ve got this new camera lens to try” I said, hoping dad had forgotten about the rickety bridge over the vertiginous chasm, and it’s far-too-short barrier that stops Joe Public from plunging to their demise
The bridge only shook once dad stepped onto it. Must’ve been the wind…
“The Long Way Round”
Kylesku was a bit of a treat, in terms of cost. We thought we deserved it after that night next to the toilets on day one - so furthered the indulgence with my first ever salmon breakfast, overlooking a blustery Loch Gleann Dubh
Time for the long slog of driving. You saw on Dad’s map, Kylesku all the way, zig-zagging up and down along various bits of single track before heading south down the A9 with our final overnight halt.
Last time, I was in the doghouse for not bringing back a tacky Christmas trinket from John o’ Groats - but I’m married now, it’s SWMBO officially! But we planned to avoid that North Eastern corner to save a bit of time on the longest driving day.
‘Yes Dear’ I say, as I report to the captain that we need to add nearly 3 hours onto our day. All was not for naught, however, as we got a glimpse of this rare (and tiny) relic. it was definitely the first I’d ever seen!
Dad tempted his luck as we battled with the wind, I was watching the crashing waves from a distance. He, however:
As many of you know, the A9 is a rather thumb-twiddling jaunt, especially after such a thorough exploration of the Highlands and its various grades of roads. And so, as we pull into the ‘car park’ of the Nethybridge hotel, our trip was at an end. We deliberately chose this, our first stop on the previous trip, as a safe bet - hardly 5 stars, but a quaint, slightly dated, comfy feel. Clearly some of you felt the same way as we gatecrashed each others’ trips. Another first as I had haggis, looked a bit suspect, but was glorious!
“Sod’s Law”
Now it’s sunny!
The final drive, Scotland to Staffordshire. Our final bit of nice road was the Old Military Road, pretty much the motivation for these two trips, based upon the old video by Catchpole in the Vantage.
A very enjoyable morning, bright sunshine - but greasy roads got me the first and only telling-off of the trip as I barrelled over a crest relying a little too much on the sat nav map. I collected it all with deft adeptness, but Dad had to admonish me like I was 7 again…
(I promise that was the only cloudy bit of the day. Sunglasses all the way home, honest!)
And that’s all she wrote, an infuriatingly sunny and balmy drive home, including just a brief stint on the motorway before our junction off the M6:
I definitely should’ve done this essay before now, as it’s now a bit of a blur - but if you read all this way, thanks very much! Onto planning the next one?
OGR4M said:
Time for my long overdue, and long-winded, write up of my experience on this trip - mine should contain fewer photos as they re much the same as Dad s.
It may have taken a while but I really enjoyed reading your take on the trip so thanks for posting it. I'm doing a Scottish Coast to Coast trip in May then back again for the NC500 clockwise in October and already looking forward to getting back North of the border!
Nigel_O said:
Road trip completed - thanks for all the suggestions.
My youngest son (Matthew) and I shared the driving. I'd paid for four of the hotels up front, Matthew paid for the first hotel, plus all the fuel and meals. We ended up less than £10 apart after 1,750 miles and north of £2k spent.
Can I do my bit for various tourist authorities and mention that My youngest son (Matthew) and I shared the driving. I'd paid for four of the hotels up front, Matthew paid for the first hotel, plus all the fuel and meals. We ended up less than £10 apart after 1,750 miles and north of £2k spent.
from Stoke you could have done lots of Northern France, all of Belgium
and most of Southern Netherlands and covered fewer miles ?
Even Strasbourg is only 650 miles from Stoke, even if you include
the nightmare that is the M25.
Continental cooking and weather versus the Scottish version
would alone be enough to make the choice easy for me.
After you get to Calais, better driving standards, better maintained roads,
fewer speed cameras and faster motorways would just be bonus points.
dcb said:
Nigel_O said:
Road trip completed - thanks for all the suggestions.
My youngest son (Matthew) and I shared the driving. I'd paid for four of the hotels up front, Matthew paid for the first hotel, plus all the fuel and meals. We ended up less than £10 apart after 1,750 miles and north of £2k spent.
Can I do my bit for various tourist authorities and mention that My youngest son (Matthew) and I shared the driving. I'd paid for four of the hotels up front, Matthew paid for the first hotel, plus all the fuel and meals. We ended up less than £10 apart after 1,750 miles and north of £2k spent.
from Stoke you could have done lots of Northern France, all of Belgium
and most of Southern Netherlands and covered fewer miles ?
Even Strasbourg is only 650 miles from Stoke, even if you include
the nightmare that is the M25.
Continental cooking and weather versus the Scottish version
would alone be enough to make the choice easy for me.
After you get to Calais, better driving standards, better maintained roads,
fewer speed cameras and faster motorways would just be bonus points.
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