It was going to be the holiday of a lifetime. The ‘bucket list’ trip to the Galapagos and Machu Pichu had been booked two years ahead. But, at the very last minute, a state of emergency was declared in Ecuador and the FCO declared it unsafe to travel there. The holiday was cancelled literally the day before we were due to leave.
So what to do? We had a clear diary, and we needed something to get over the crashing sense of anti-climax. It only took a moment to agree on another bucket list target – “Let’s jump in the Porsche and do the North Coast 500.”
The 2013 991 Carrera S Cabriolet is another bucket list item. Richard had always dreamed of a 911, and when circumstances finally permitted, we specced one on the Porsche website and then went to Porsche Centre Colchester to turn the dream into reality.
We were (easily) persuaded not to wait months for the Gentian Blue example we’d designed on screen, but to take delivery straight away of the Agate Grey one, with more or less the same list of bells and whistles, that was waiting there in the showroom.
It was the start of a love affair so intense that, despite the car’s repeated misbehaviour (it first broke down three days out of warranty and has defied Porsche’s reputation for reliability big time since, despite no-expense-spared maintenance), we have resisted the temptation to update it. It is the last of the naturally aspirated howlers, and Richard does not think the newer, greener turbos sound half as good.
Disappointment at not flying to the sun was quickly replaced with anticipation of a different adventure. We unpacked the shorts and and malaria pills, replacing them with sweaters and fleeces for Scotland. We left home at first light on Tuesday 22 October, with absolutely no pre-planning. First stop the Orwell Bridge service station to fill the tank and the tyres.
There was an absolutely stunning sunrise and we made great progress, eventually stopping mid-morning for the proverbial all-day breakfast at the Ferrybridge services on the A1. We hadn’t thought about where we would stop, but at this rate it might well be the start of the NC500 route at Inverness!
We took the A68 towards Edinburgh, a brilliant scenic road across the hills, wonderful wild open countryside – and then… the dashboard display announced yet another problem. There was a fault with the cooling system, it informed us, and instructed us to take the car straight to a Porsche Centre.
Thank goodness for smartphones and for Google. We were relieved to find help was at hand in Wallsend only 20 miles away. We got there at 2pm.
“Ah, you know what that message means?” said the jovial Geordie on reception. “Time to buy a new one – you’ve come to the right place!”
At this point Richard would probably have cheerfully swapped it for a new one, but of course we couldn’t wait for it to be delivered, so they kindly agreed to investigate.
And by the time we’d had the inevitable complimentary coffee they were able to report that it was not losing coolant, but vacuum – this could be down to any one of eight solenoids.
They would not be able to find out which one until the next day, as the workshop was very busy – and then they could not guarantee when it could be fixed, depending on whether they had the relevant part in stock.
So we booked in for a couple of nights in a hotel in Newcastle. Not quite what we’d planned, but we enjoyed our time there, exploring the city the first day, and then taking a (free with pensioners’ passes) bus trip up the coast to Blyth and Whitley Bay on the second.
And then – thank you Porsche Centre Wallsend – came the call, sooner than expected, to say the car was ready for collection. So on the Friday we were under way again. We followed the A1 up the coast, enjoying distant views of the Farnes and Holy Island, and with the help of the GPS found our way round Edinburgh and over the new Forth Road Bridge.
The motorway took us to Perth in what seemed like no time, so we elected to carry on across the Cairngorms to Blairgowrie and then Braemar. It was an amazing scenic switchback road which Richard and the car were both thoroughly enjoying. His ‘I love my Porsche’ smile was firmly back in place. Its misbehaviour was once again forgiven.
We still had no plans made and nothing booked, but we soon discovered that this late in the season (everything closes on 31 October, it seems) we could just stop where we liked and find a room. That day it was the Fife Arms in Braemar – rather swanky, high Scottish baronial style, a bit of a treat to celebrate finally starting the holiday proper.
The next morning Richard watched the England v New Zealand rugby world cup semi-final while I finally did the navigation homework. We hit the road at 11.30am. Another spectacular mountain drive, this time over the Grampians, with snow on the tops – down to the roadside at one point – took us to Inverness, and the start of the NC500 route.
We’d been warned that finding high octane fuel out in the hills might be an issue, so we filled the tank at what turned out to be the last big filling station for days.
From then on the route was spectacularly scenic, with the view changing all the time, from high mountains to wide valleys, huge vistas to narrow gorges, and all the time amazing autumn colours and sparkling sunshine.
It turned out that our spur of the moment decision to do this trip could not have been better timed if we’d planned it. The autumn colours were absolutely at their peak – and the roads, mainly single track with passing places – were more or less deserted. We had this wonderful playground very nearly to ourselves. This classic road trip can’t be half as much fun in high summer when the roads are packed with camper vans and coaches.
At the hotel in Lochcarron I asked if they had a room for the night and the response was “all of them!” This was a slightly scruffy local pub in stark contrast to the grandeur of the Fife Arms, but the food and the welcome were wonderful. Great food – local specialities seafood and venison – was a feature throughout the trip.
The next day (Sunday) there were showers, but they only added to the interest, the light changing all the time as the rain came and went – instantly transforming waterfalls from trickles to raging torrents. There were rainbows, too.
And lots of wonderfully interesting places along the way. We were delighted to find more high-octane fuel in Ullapool – probably enough to get us back to Inverness – and carried on to Lochinver. The Lochinver Arms was closing for the season in a couple of days and was almost deserted, but we were very well looked after.
We opted out of the very adventurous track from Lochinver to Kylesku, as Richard was wary of grounding the car and we felt that even the ‘main’ roads of the NC500 were adventurous enough. That day’s stretch along the north coast was just fantastic.
We’d hoped to stay at Bettyhill, with a dramatic sea view, recommended by friends, but it was already shut for the winter. So we carried on to Thurso, enjoying a lovely view of Orkney in sunshine across the water.
The following morning the poor car (not used to being left outside overnight) needed de-icing before we set off for John o’ Groats, via Dunnet Head, under a beautiful clear blue sky. Then there was Duncansby Head and the walk to see the Duncansby Stacks, which the guidebook says is essential. We wouldn’t disagree.
Our plan had been to stop at Wick, but it was such a beautiful day and we were enjoying ourselves so much that we decided to keep going, eventually stopping at the very welcoming Dornoch Castle Hotel, which boasts its own gin distillery.
On Wednesday 30 October we were back in Inverness, having completed the NC500 circuit – but the drive was far from over. Our plan now was to go down the Great Glen, following the route of the Caledonian Canal.
We enjoyed the super-scenic road to Fort William, with breath-taking views of snow-capped Ben Nevis and other peaks, and then carried on up Glen Coe - absolutely stunning, one of the (many) highlights of the trip.
We stopped at Bridge of Orchy, the only hotel that we found busy (fortunately they managed to squeeze us in) – packed with hill walkers, even late season midweek.
Thursday 31 October – officially the end of the Scottish tourist season - we took a single track ‘short cut’ through the Glen of Orchy, which proved a bit daunting, very narrow and twisty, with very few passing places, but fortunately we had it to ourselves.
We paid a brief visit to Oban for old times sake before heading to Crinan, where there is another daunting single-track stretch to reach the photogenic sea lock. We followed the Crinan canal to Ardrishaig, and the sea lock at the other end – a bit of a yachtsman’s pilgrimage.
The scenery and the autumn colours were still stunning, but as we drove along Loch Fyne and Loch Long to Loch Lomond we realised rather sadly that we were heading south towards home. The holiday was drawing to an end.
We spent our final night at the Inn on Loch Lomond at Inverbeg. We checked out early and stopped for petrol on the outskirts of Glasgow. It was raining hard and on the motorway we were swamped in sheets of spray from heavy lorry traffic, obliterating what would have been fine views of the southern highlands.
Fortunately the rain cleared when we crossed the English border at 11am and things got better from then on – more impressive views to savour as we crossed the Pennines on the A66.
We stopped for a cuppa at Scotch Corner, and Richard announced that he wanted to get home rather than taking another hotel stop along the way.
I guessed this was because he wanted to watch England in the rugby world cup final at 9am the next morning, which might have been difficult if we were checking out of a hotel. Also the weather was forecast to break up big time, with warnings of destructive winds and torrential downpours.
It made for a very long day in the car – 450 miles out of the 1850 total for the whole trip. We had to stop at Huntingdon for a second tankful of petrol, and it was going dark as we crawled through the epic A14 roadworks approaching Cambridge (shortly before they were finally cleared), but after that we were in familiar territory and the final miles flew by.
It says an awful lot for the car that we were completely comfortable spending most of 12 hours inside it.
Well, it wasn’t the Galapagos, but the car made up for its early misdemeanour, and despite not having done any planning or preparation, we had an absolutely brilliant holiday.
With air travel in turmoil in the wake of the pandemic, it may be that bucket list adventures like the Galapagos are a thing of the past. But the impromptu NC500 experience was a cheering reminder that you can have a holiday of a lifetime much closer to home.