The North Coast 500 is probably Britain’s best-known road trip – our equivalent of Route 66 or Ireland’s Wild Atlantic Way. A 516-mile loop of northern Scotland, it’s incredibly scenic, taking in dramatic peaks, pristine beaches and remote villages.
But it’s controversial, too. A recent study by Biggar Economics found traffic has increased by 83 per cent since the NC500 was established in 2015, and that many locals say they’ve witnessed littering and dangerous driving.
Yet, the aim of the route when it was created by the North Highland Initiative was to boost the local economy – and it appears to have succeeded, generating almost £100m in economic benefit last year. And on a drive along it in June, I saw for myself how it’s breathed new life into communities.
Our journey began at Culloden, near Inverness, in a borrowed Bailey Autograph motorhome. The plan was simple: enjoy the east coast section of the NC500 by following it north through Brora and John O’Groats before a final night at Dunnet Bay – a three-night journey of 140 miles before we’d return south. Caravan and Motorhome Club campsites are well-placed along the route, making the itinerary refreshingly straightforward.
Within minutes of departing Culloden and weaving through Inverness, it became obvious why the NC500 is so popular. The Moray Firth is a stunning way to leave the city, and although the route goes along the A9, I’m not sure I’ve seen a more picturesque arterial road. It was well-maintained, too, and plenty wide enough for larger vehicles like ours.
About 50 miles north of Inverness, in the village of Golspie, my wife and I stopped for coffee at the Golspie Inn. The hotel wasn’t packed, but the bar-restaurant was busy with motorcyclists comparing routes, another couple touring in a motorhome and a family stopping for a meal before continuing north.
I’ve travelled through more than 35 countries by road, towing caravans across Europe, crossing Morocco’s Atlas Mountains and driving as far north as the Arctic Circle. Yet, there were moments where the scenery genuinely stopped me in my tracks. The North Sea began appearing alongside the road, revealing long stretches of golden sand and small fishing villages.
A beautiful view emerged at every bend, demanding we pull over. The view from a bridge on the A9 at Helmsdale prompted a tea stop next to the sleepy harbour. With steaming mugs, we watched as fishermen tended the nets for their next North Sea trip.
At a petrol station in Brora, I got chatting to the staff who told me how things have changed over the past decade. Previously, their customers tended to be local folk who pulled in for a £20 splash and dash, but business has improved, thanks to the many visitors who now stop to refuel for the road ahead.
During my time in the the route, cafes were busy. Campsites were welcoming a steady flow of visitors. Shops were doing brisk trade. These benefits are backed up by research. According to Biggar Economics’ report, almost nine in 10 of the businesses surveyed believe the NC500 has helped them grow, with many saying it’s extended the tourist season and encouraged visitors to explore previously little-visited areas of the Highlands.
Of course, any destination that becomes this popular will face challenges. We were lucky with traffic – the only queues we encountered were at traffic lights, but I did see motorhomes parked overnight in industrial estate carparks, and there were a handful of beauty spots where parking was clearly under pressure.
While buying a pie from a local shop, I was told by a staff member that visitors at a nearby loch had left more than litter behind. Scotland proudly offers unique wild camping opportunities (it’s legal to pitch a tent on most unenclosed land), but that’s on the basis of leaving no trace. With incidents like this – no matter how isolated – it’s no surprise some locals are unhappy.
However, these few examples of poor tourist behaviour were overshadowed by everything else we experienced. For every motorhome overnighting in a B&Q carpark, there were dozens using campsites.
For every busy viewpoint, there were miles of empty coastline. And for every headline focusing on overtourism, there were independent businesses benefiting from thousands of visitors spending £50 on a campsite for the night, a diesel top-up, or lunch for two.
The NC500 is undoubtedly busier than it was a decade ago, so continued investment will be needed if it is to remain sustainable.
In much of continental Europe, aires – free or low-cost motorhome camping areas with basic services – are widespread. Motorhomes and campervans can stop and, crucially, access fresh drinking water, grey-water drainage and chemical-toilet disposal. Some are overnight stops; others are more like service stations where you empty and refill before carrying on.
Our final evening at Dunnet Bay brought one last reminder of why road trips here work so well. On a previous journey, I’d found myself crossing 21 countries in as many days, but here, nothing felt rushed. We’d chosen a manageable 140-mile chunk of the NC500 and made three overnight stops, allowing us to enjoy our surroundings – in this case, the beach, a short walk away, and John O’Groats, a few miles up the road.
As the sun dropped towards the horizon, I realised that taking the time to enjoy some of Britain’s most spectacular scenery – and stopping on a whim whenever we felt like it – was the greatest luxury.
