Scotlandâs epic road trip begins and ends in Inverness.
Scotlandâs North Coast 500
Distance: 516 miles (830 km)
Start: Inverness
End: Inverness
This circular route around mainland Scotlandâs northernmost peninsula takes in some of the countryâs finest beaches and spectacular mountain passes, the best of which is Bealach na BÃ . The narrow track is an arresting introduction to driving on Scottish roads, with its twists and turns through the undulating landscape of Wester Ross. If you need somewhere to rest afterwards, the Torridon is a spectacular country estate hotel.Â
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Along the coast, Sinclairs Bay has soft golden sand thatâll tempt you away from the road for a day to swim, surf, or spot orcas and seals out at sea, and Duncansby Head offers views of vast sea stacks, where you can see the layers of rock that have formed and been eroded over millennia. Taste prime Scottish seafood in the village of Ullapool, an
Beyond powdery blonde Lourido beach, the Atlantic swirled around plunging cliffs, wind-lashed lighthouses and miles of green, eucalyptus-scented Galician countryside. Unbelievably for 2020, I was at a just-launched hotel: the hotly awaited Parador Costa da Morte, on Galiciaâs misty, eerily entrancing west coast, just outside the stonewalled fishing village of MuxÃa in north-west Spain.
Spainâs much-anticipated 98th parador had been in the works for almost two decades, and is part of a long-term recovery project to boost tourism (and the economy) on Galiciaâs Costa da Morte following the disastrous 2002 Prestige oil spill. After delaying its planned Easter 2020 launch because of the pandemic, this £22âmillion, sustainability-focused beauty finally threw open its doors in late June â and, despite all the odds, it fast became a favourite. While there are wonderful small country hotels and pilgrim hostels around, the parador takes the Costa da Morteâs
Lonely beaches reminded Paul of Cornwall
At a waterside restaurant on the Costa da Morte, in the far north-west corner of the Iberian Peninsula, I sat in the shade of a palm tree listening to the plish-plash of the waves as I made my way through a plate of scallops and a glass or two, or three, of apple-fresh albariño. Mine was one of just three tables for lunch. Across the water, a fishing boat chugged into Corme harbour. It was hard to know whether this sense of easeful quiet was normal, “new normal” or quite uncharacteristic: either way, it was doing me good.