Highlight seven of the NC500 – Paradise

Your shoe bound foot sinks into the pristine expanse before you. It has been years since you’ve been in this situation. You feel like a child that has made a new discovery. You release your feet from their prisons and venture onto the whitest sand you have seen since your honeymoon. It is cold but soft like cotton. This must be a dream. 

Leaving the car and boardwalk behind you, you feel the wind whip the tangling hair around your face and praise the chosen warm outfit of the day. As the sea retreats from the coast it leaves an untouched surface of shoreline. Even the grey clouds, that occasionally block the sun’s path to the sand, do not stop the glow of its purity. All at once you wish you could float so you can leave this piece of perfection as is and yet you are filled with joy to feel its beauty beneath you. 

As you emerge from between the sand dunes you see the exceptionally calm and clear water ahead. This place is anything but normal. The sun peeks out from behind the racing clouds overhead and the whole scene explodes with colour. A hop, skip and a jump from the shoreline the waters turn turquoise. TURQUOISE! 

This is my highlight from Day 7 of our recent trip to Scotland to drive the NC500 route. Can you actually believe this place is in Scotland. Scotland, Uk. The United Kingdom!

Before any kind of suspicion arrives in your mind, dear reader, my disbelief is not in some way an insult to Scotland. Of course these beautiful places can be found anywhere in the world. However, my shock, even now, lies in the fact that it has taken me over the 34 years that I have resided on this planet and in this country, to come to that conclusion. With the filters available online and on Instagram, it is often the case of finding something before you that looks nothing like the images online. Which is why I was so pleasantly surprised and shocked that Achmelvich Bay is even better than any picture I had previously seen. Although our photos look pretty damn good! ‘A’ List photographers that we are. 

I have been exceptionally lucky in my life to have travelled to some pretty stunning shorelines in my life. 

Cape Tribulation in Australia. Where the Daintree rainforest meets the cool blue waters that also house the Great Barrier Reef.

Three islands in the Maldives. The white sand mixed with crushed shells and coral.

The vast beaches of the Dominican Republic.

The list goes on. 

But somehow, Scotland’s Achmelvich Bay transfixed my soul. Could it be the amount of time (4 years) since our last pristine beach visit? Or the freedom from the car on such a huge road trip? 

Or could it quite simply be this…

Lockdown was bloody hard. 2020 and 2021 were hard. 2022 felt like it was one tentative step after the other. Watch out for potential landmines! The constant up and down nature of the news and information being thrown at us from all angles had a way of defeating, healing and crushing and restoring hope all at once. No one I know came out of those two years unscathed. And yet on that beach, it just disappeared. 

It has to be said that for the few hours we paused our trip in that Bay, there were only four other visitors on the sand itself. Two braved the waters like we did. One lady stopped by for a chat. And another paddled up to her knees. In a way, Mr W and I felt like it was our own perfect paradise. It welcomed you like an old friend. 

I have journeyed back to that beach many times since returning home. Albeit it from the luxury of my sofa. We know we will soon be returning to Scotland and its wondrous 500 mile route and even though there is so much more to see and explore, one thing is for sure, our feet will take us back to that paradise to once again feel in awe of this astounding country. That in itself is one thing to take from the uncertainty of life during the height of the pandemic. I have learned so much about the Uk and its pockets of joy. It came when we were forced to abandon trips abroad and opt for open spaces above all else. During the turmoil of Covid, I felt selfish to wonder if travel would ever feel the same again. Now I know the face of travel has changed for us in a huge way. We no longer only look outside our own country for escapism. We look at the country we are blessed to call home and the adventures that still await us. 

The links for the itinerary and recap of this day are below. I hope one day you experience this magical route for yourself. 

The difference a day makes

Yesterday, after 4 hours of sleep, we forced ourselves out of the front door and into the car. The sun had been in the sky for less than 3 hours and it was shining brightly and extremely hot. Where we were heading called for little clothing but with the reward of being able to cool down.

Conversation was rapid fire as it often is with being over-tired and by the time we pulled into the car park we were raring to go.

As you may have gleaned from previous blogs I’m very uncomfortable in my own skin, hide my body away and this means I have not worn a swimming costume in the UK in over 23 years. Even abroad I’ve only worn one twice in the last 20 years. I usually wear a dress and roll down the straps. Or shorts and a t-shirt. Lately I’ve wanted to push myself to do things I’m scared of. So at 8am yesterday I took off my dress to reveal the swimming costume underneath and stepped onto the cool sand.

The tide was low but the water was cool. Not the gasp-inducing cool that takes your breath away, but the kind of cool that makes you say ‘ooo that’s nice’ and then venture on.

With a lot of slimy and slippery rocks in the water it was slow going and Mr W led me in one baby step at a time. The water felt amazing on my bare legs. Bare legs! Me!

The waves were gentle and before long we were thigh deep. We both agreed not being able to see the large rocks was disconcerting and took a moment to dip down in the water. I felt so free and happy. It was as if with each wave my fears were being cleansed away.

It helps that we were the only ones on the entire shoreline. I’m not naive to that exact fact. It was the reason we went so early. Crowded places, as you may have realised in ‘Panic at the concert’ (link below), are not something we take lightly. So if we can get up early enough to have a place to ourselves we will. It’s also wonderful to say you had a whole beach to yourself!

https://frameworktravel.home.blog/2022/07/16/panic-at-the-concert/

We watched the waves roll the sunlight about for a while longer and turned to walk back to our bags. My body carried itself lighter than ever before. It wasn’t hidden. And I wasn’t ready to cover up just yet.

Mr W took the bags up to the dryer part of the beach while I found a shallow pool of water. At first I sat in its depths feeling it cool my legs. I looked up and saw the odd dog walker on the cliffs. I chided myself for wanting to hide my body again. I splashed the water over myself to shut the thoughts up.

With a devil may care attitude I lay back in the pool and felt the water lap at my shoulders and neck. I knew that half the sandy beach would end up in my hair but I didn’t care. I was laying here, vulnerable and yet enjoying every second.

After 30 or so minutes the cool waters had reduced my skin to goosebumps and the warm sand was calling to me.

Standing up I slowly sauntered to the waiting beach towel. Arms by my side. Not folded. Shoulders back. Not hunched. Head up. Not face down.

I sat on the sand letting the morning sun dry my hair and warm me slowly. Mr W showed me the basics of flying his new drone and we smiled, laughed and talked of our impending trip to Scotland.

The anxiety of the night before felt a million miles away and I high-fived myself mentally. It sounds like such a small victory I know but imagine denying yourself the right to feel the sea on your skin without the cover of clothing for over 20 years.

Mr W and I are already looking for a less rocky beach to continue my carefree activities!

Photo by Dave Watson
Please check out his work on https://www.instagram.com/davewatson_uk/ or at https://davewatson1980.picfair.com