I’m waiting on the banks of Loch Ness for a bus that I’m not sure I believe. So, I don’t know if I believe that he will come on time, or even believe that he will come on time. Because this sounds like a place where it’s not possible to take local public transportation. That’s exactly what I hope to do, though.
I’m here in the Scottish Highlands unlucky He came from London on several trains and decided to tour this magnificent corner of Britain without renting wheels.
Yes, it’s probably crazy. All conventional wisdom says you desperately need a car to explore these areas. There’s even a road trip here famous enough to have a name: the North Coast 500. Scotland’s answer to America’s Route 66.
But after a year of driving and flying, carbon guilt set in. I’m also wondering: Could a greener itinerary be planned here? Or will my whole week be spent sitting around like this, waiting for buses that probably don’t exist?
A woman I met when I arrived in Inverness was clear. “The buses are terrible here,” he said matter-of-factly when I told him my plan. “They’re not coming.”
He was initially proven wrong. Along with my husband, nine-year-old son and seven-year-old daughter, I managed to get the 919 from Inverness to Clansman Harbor on Loch Ness to board the Jacobite Cruises catamaran. We admired the breathtaking views from the deck and gazed into the unimaginable depths of the world-famous lake, the largest in England by volume. We stopped by the ruins of historic Urquhart Castle and retired to the boat’s covered seating area as the weather got a little too Scottish.
So yes, we did it here. But now I’m starting to wonder how easy it will be to continue our journey at our lakeside bus stop and whether we might be stranded there until evening. There isn’t even a sign to mark the stop.
Then there it is: the surprisingly reliable 919 rounds the corner and stops to take us four and a half miles south to Drumnadrochit, along a road that hugs the lake.
If you’re looking for the beast, this is the place to come. You may not see Nessie, but you will find the Loch Ness Centre, once the Drumnadrochit Hotel; A fun and creative family-friendly attraction. Moving through a series of atmospherically lit rooms, you’ll learn through immersive storytelling how the legend was born and how it endures.
As we boarded the 919 back to Inverness, I decided that I believed in this bus, if not the monster.
Reaching the UK’s northernmost city has never been easier. The weekend we started our journey a storm was ravaging the railways and our chances looked slim. But while the departure boards were filled with a sea of cancellations, we made it through the first leg without too much trouble; We raced across flooded English fields and arrived in Edinburgh on an overcrowded but only slightly delayed train.
To avoid traveling all day with restless children, we cut short our Highlands journey at the majestic Balmoral Hotel, towering over Edinburgh’s Waverley: the ideal place for a pitstop. With views of Edinburgh Castle from our suite, we stepped directly into a luxurious fairytale.
Designed as a railway hotel at the turn of the 20th century, the Balmoral has a reassuringly classical elegance: high ceilings, sweeping staircases, its own whiskey bar with over 500 varieties to choose from. (Given our underage crew, we refreshed ourselves in the hotel’s sparkling spa pool instead.)
The next day the trains were in front of us. Our departure to Inverness at 10.33am was cancelled. I sighed and suggested: “Perth?” We could reach Inverness later if we didn’t mind spending an hour there.
In the early afternoon we were boarding a two-car train from Perth with twice the number of seats. He proceeded nowhere for half an hour while waiting for more rolling stock. My Highlands public transport journey wasn’t looking promising.
However, this delay was quickly forgotten as we finally started heading towards the Cairngorms. The mountain slopes were covered here with heather, here with pine trees; silver-white streams cut the panorama under the clear blue sky.
“To look!” I begged the children. “Unbelievable.” “Yeah,” they muttered and glanced briefly at their iPads.
They were more interested when it came to finding the pool at our Inverness spa hotel, Kingsmills, a pleasant 20-minute walk from the city centre. The main hotel building dates back to the 1700s, but our rooms were comfortable and modern, and we ate heartily in the lively hotel lounge. (Haggis, neeps and tatties were inevitably involved.)
After our journey from here to Loch Ness, I have Ullapool in sight. Buses have other ideas.
We were unusually diligent, checking multiple sources: Google Maps, online schedule, a text message sent to the bus stop. They all said the 61 would stop near Kingsmills at 1.20pm on the day of our departure. We spend a delightful morning exploring the fascinating Inverness Museum and Young’s Auld Sweetie Shop, where children are bribed. We then head back to wait faithfully for our bus. But for unknown reasons it never appears.
Fortunately, all is not lost. A bus to Ullapool will (hopefully) leave the bus station at 3.55pm. So we head back into town with our luggage, kill time in the huge Leakey’s Bookshop (an old Welsh church full of second-hand volumes), eat macaroni and cheese pies by the River Ness (why not put a macaroni cheese pie in a bowl?), then finally board our transport.
I assumed that avoiding car rental companies would not only be environmentally friendly but also cost-effective. A return bus ticket to Ullapool for the four of us came to £98. Is this cheap? It doesn’t seem like much after waiting a day, but when I arrived at Ullapool Pier it seemed like the best way we could spend this sum.
Most of the 80 minute journey was simply magical. Now Ullapool itself is like a dreamscape; Mountains rise from the edge of Loch Broom, colors changing dramatically every few minutes as the afternoon sun passes across the sky. The air is cool and clean, I never want to leave.
We reward ourselves with a nice dinner at the cozy and stylish Ceilidh Place, a few minutes’ walk from the pier. In fact, everything in this picturesque fishing town is a few minutes’ walk from the pier: the sweet little local museum; the award-winning open-air Seafood Shack; and West Coast Delicatessen. I hold Ullapool close to my heart, a miniature food paradise nestled in the Highlands landscape that’s better than almost anything you’ll find on these islands.
The pain of having to leave two days later was eased by the finale I had planned: the return journey to London on the Caledonian Sleeper.
We get it from Aberdeen, but it also comes from Inverness: we’ve come this far, we might as well squeeze in another corner of Scotland.
As soon as I step on board, I feel a childlike excitement rising in my chest.
“I’m so glad you made us do this!” I continue to explain it to my train-crazy son with increasing enthusiasm. “The best night of my life,” he replies.
We have everything we need in our two adjacent club ensuites: bunk beds, sink, toilet, shower and a sense of romance. I keep the curtain open all night so I can see where we are as we head south in the dark. As fun as day trains are, there is absolutely no better way to travel by land.
I decided a car was unnecessary. We did it all without driving: A “road trip” without driving. It turns out there are other ways to see the Scottish Highlands, if you’re willing to embrace the fare and surrender yourself to their mysteries. Just don’t rely on punctuality the whole way.
Fundamentals
Rosa Silverman and her family were guests at The Balmoral and Kingsmills Hotel and on the Caledonian Sleeper ship. LNER operates trains from London King’s Cross to Edinburgh.