Scotland 2026

Scotland For Groups

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Unforgettable Scottish breaks, just one page away EXPLORE. DRIFT. DISAPPEAR.

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Comment ere’s a moment most group organisers recognise. You’re standing at the front of a coach, itinerary in hand, and you can feel the group leaning forward slightly. ey don’t quite know why yet, but something about what’s coming next matters. Scotland has a habit of producing those moments with disarming ease.

Perhaps it’s the way the land refuses to behave politely. Hills arrive before you expect them. Water insists on reflecting the sky in ways that feel personal.

Towns reveal themselves slowly, not with fanfare but with confidence, as if they’ve been here long enough to know they don’t need to hurry. For groups, this matters. Scotland doesn’t exhaust people. It gathers them.

Group travel thrives on rhythm, and Scotland understands rhythm instinctively. A morning that begins with a castle courtyard slick with rain, followed by coffee somewhere warm and human, then a drive that quietly does the heavy liing while stories unfold outside the windows. e distances work. e days balance. You can see a great deal without feeling chased by it.

What makes Scotland particularly generous to groups is its practicality, delivered without fuss. Attractions are used to coaches, used to questions, used to people arriving together with expectations and timetables. Guides here speak in a way that includes everyone, from the front row notetakers to those at the back who just want a good story and a bench at the right moment. Accessibility isn’t a slogan; it’s an assumption.

en there’s the social glue. Scotland excels at shared experiences. A distillery visit where the group warms collectively. A boat trip where the wind does half the talking.

A historic house where someone inevitably says, “I didn’t expect this,” and means it as praise. ese are the moments that turn a well-run trip into a remembered one, the kind people bring up at committee meetings months later when next year’s ideas are floated.

Food plays its part too, not as theatre but as reassurance. Soups that know what they’re for. Baking that appears at exactly the right time. Meals that don’t rush, but don’t linger awkwardly either. Groups relax around food, and Scotland seems quietly determined to make sure they do. is supplement is built with those realities in mind. It isn’t about chasing every famous view or ticking off landmarks for the sake of it.

It’s about places that work for groups, people who understand them, and experiences that reward arriving together. You’ll find coast and countryside, history and hospitality, big names and smaller discoveries that feel earned rather than advertised.

Scotland doesn’t demand attention. It earns it. And for groups willing to give it a few days, a little patience, and a front seat on the coach, it gives back something rare: the sense that everyone has been somewhere properly, together, and come away slightly changed.

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Contents 6

Nick F

Editor’s Choice A handpicked selection of places that linger in the memory long aer the journey ends. ese are the stops that reward curiosity and turn a good journey into a memorable one.

12 e Way North A Rambling Journey rough Scotland Heading north has a way of slowing everything down. e roads lengthen, the skies open out, and Scotland begins to reveal itself in its own time. is journey follows that gentle shi in pace, from familiar lowlands to more dramatic landscapes, where the pleasure lies as much in the passing views as in the places you stop.

26 Interesting Facts Small, quietly surprising details that add colour to the landscape and give passengers something to talk about as the scenery rolls past.

28 Scottish Castles From cliff-top strongholds to lochside ruins, Scotland’s castles are woven into the land, telling stories of power, endurance, and lives shaped by the weather and the years.

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English Riviera BID Company

English Riviera BID Company

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Editor’s Choice Tried, tested and recommended: these attractions and venues offer a warm welcome, excellent facilities and unforgettable experiences tailor-made for great days out

stopping for breakfast, lunch, or morning or aernoon coffee and cake. e restaurant also holds VisitScotland’s Taste Our Best accreditation.

Coach parties are welcome all year round. Advance booking is recommended to ensure smooth and efficient service for groups.

To make a booking or discuss group requirements call 01764 654065.

CRIEFF VISITOR CENTRE Crieff Visitor Centre is set in the heart of the Strathearn countryside on the outskirts of Crieff, Perthshire. It is easily accessible from all directions and has extensive FREE coach parking.

As the home of worldrenowned Caithness Glass, visitors can enjoy watching

the skilled crasmen at work, before meandering around the Gi Shop, Garden Centre, Art and Antique Areas and the Highland Drover’s Exhibition.

Crieff

Visitor Centre

Visitors receive a warm welcome in the spacious 180 seater family friendly restaurant. e kitchen uses local produce and the extensive menu offers strong value whether guests are

Set in the beautiful Perthshire countryside and home to internationally-renowned Caithness Glass. Enjoy watching the skilled craftsmen at work in a close-up studio environment, before spending time in our Gifts, Glass and Art & Collectables Areas. You can also discover more about the history of the local area in our Highland Drover’s Exhibition.

Afterwards visit our Restaurant, which can seat up to 180.

We use the best local produce and our menu offers great value. We also have extensive FREE coach parking.

For further information about what we can offer your coach party, please call 01764 654065 or email rest@crieff.co.uk

www.crieff.co.uk

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DOLPHIN SPIRIT MORAY FIRTH e road north thins out, towns giving way to water and sky, and by the time I reach the harbour the world

already feels quieter. ere is a particular stillness to the Moray Firth, a sense that nothing here needs to perform. I step aboard knowing that whatever happens next will happen on

the sea’s terms, not mine.

With Dolphin Spirit, the journey begins gently. e boat moves out without fuss, the engine settling into a steady rhythm, and the shoreline starts to loosen its grip. Commentary is offered in a relaxed, companionable way, filling the space without demanding attention. You find yourself watching the water more than listening, which feels exactly right. en movement. A fin breaks the surface, then another. Dolphins appear not as a spectacle but as neighbours briefly passing through. ey arc, disappear, return. e boat holds its distance. e moment is allowed to breathe.

For groups, this is where the experience works particularly well. e boat is stable, sheltered, and thoughtfully laid out. Guests can sit, stand, move, and respond in their own way. ere is time to absorb what is happening rather than rush for photographs. Even those 7

who came along simply for the ride become absorbed.

What stays with me is not only the dolphins, but the feeling of being folded briefly into a living landscape. is is not entertainment. It is participation. When we turn back toward shore, the land feels subtly changed, as though I have been let in on something quietly extraordinary. www.dolphinspirit.com FISHER’S HOTEL PITLOCHRY By the time the coach rolls into Pitlochry, the road has already set the tone. Hills rise and fall, the light shis, and there is a growing sense that this is somewhere people return to. e hotel sits at the heart of the town, not announcing itself, simply ready.

Walking into Fisher’s Hotel feels reassuringly efficient.

Groups arrive here not as interruptions, but as expected guests. Luggage moves smoothly, keys appear

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promptly, and there is an immediate sense that nothing will need repeating or correcting.

Public spaces are used naturally. People gather, dri apart, and regroup. ere is room for quiet moments and space for conversation. e bar hums with late aernoon energy, hinting at stories that will surface later. Bedrooms are practical, comfortable, and refreshingly straightforward, which matters more than people oen admit aer a long day on the road.

Dinner shows the hotel at its strongest. Service is calm, well paced, and confident. ere is no rushing and no awkward waiting. Staff seem instinctively aware of when to step in and when to step back. For organisers, this ease is invaluable, as timings hold without feeling imposed

e following morning, stepping straight out into Pitlochry feels like a continuation rather than a departure. Shops, riverside walks, and theatres are all close at hand. e hotel supports the experience without dominating it. By the time I leave, it is clear why so many itineraries return here year aer year. www.fishershotelpitlochry.com

RAMMERSCALES

conversation but never insist upon it. Outside, the Borders stretch gently away, offering walks that seem to begin without ceremony. e quiet here is practical and restorative.

e road to Rammerscales asks for commitment. It narrows, slows, and draws you away from the idea of rushing anywhere. By the time I arrive, the pace has already shied, which turns

For groups, this is a place that subtly changes behaviour. Phones appear less oen. Conversations deepen.

Schedules loosen. Hosts recognise this instinctively, adapting layouts and plans to suit the group rather than the other way around.

Meals become part of the rhythm rather than an event.

Local food, straightforward cooking, and time to linger. ere is space here for thinking, creating, reflecting, or simply being still, without instruction.

As part of a wider itinerary, Rammerscales provides contrast. It adds depth to a journey, reminding people that travel is not only about accumulation. Leaving feels less like departure and more like carrying something quieter forward.

out to be exactly the point.

Rammerscales sits easily within its landscape. Former farm buildings hold the space with quiet assurance. ere is no grand arrival moment, only the feeling of having reached somewhere deliberately chosen.

Inside, everything feels considered without being forced. Rooms invite you to stay rather than pass through.

Shared spaces encourage

www.rammerscales.co.uk 8

BERWICK BOAT TRIPS Berwick feels like a threshold, shaped by movement rather than permanence. I arrive curious, but it is only once I step onto the boat that the town begins to make sense. From the water, lines straighten and the story becomes clearer.

Setting off with Berwick Boat Trips is pleasingly straightforward. e boat slips away from the quay, the river opens out, and the town reveals itself layer by layer.

Walls, bridges, and old routes of defence and trade align into something readable and coherent. e commentary dris in and out, anchoring what you see without overwhelming it. ere is no pressure to absorb everything. You can listen, watch, or simply let the movement do the work.

Seals appear along the route, resting as though they have always been part of the plan.

For groups, the trip works as a gentle reset. e length is just right, the pace forgiving.

Boarding is easy, seating is

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SCONE PALACE Approaching Scone Palace, the land seems to organise itself. e road straightens, trees draw back, and there is a sense of entering somewhere that once mattered greatly and still knows it. e palace rises without arrogance, confident in its place.

comfortable, and the whole operation feels quietly competent. No one is rushed and no one is le behind.

Even those usually cautious about boats relax quickly into the rhythm.

What stands out most is how people change during the journey. Shoulders drop and

Inside, the story unfolds at a manageable pace. History is presented clearly, without overload. Visitors move at their own speed, absorbing atmosphere as much as information. It never feels remote or inaccessible. It feels inhabited by its past.

conversations soen. When we return to the quay, the town feels more familiar, as though we have been properly introduced. It is an experience that adds understanding rather than noise.

For groups, the experience flows well. Coach access is straightforward, movement through the palace is carefully managed, and staff guide without herding. Some guests choose structured tours, others explore independently, and both approaches work comfortably side by side.

Outside, the tone shis again. e grounds offer space to decompress aer the interiors. e Moot Hill carries its own significance, presented without theatrical flourish. Visitors are invited to stand, reflect, and decide what it means for themselves.

www.berwickboattrips.co.uk

BERWICK BOAT TRIPS

What remains is the balance. is is a major historic site that understands the modern visitor. It respects time, energy, and curiosity equally.

Groups leave informed but not exhausted, thoughtful rather than overwhelmed.

DAILY SAILINGS RIVER & SEA TRIPS FROM BERWICK-UPON-TWEED

www.sconepalace.co.uk

Tel: 07713 170845 www.berwickboattrips.co.uk

Ferries arrive and depart, gulls circle overhead, and the water never fully settles.

Stepping aboard with Sweeney’s Cruise Co feels like choosing to slow down within that movement.

As the boat pulls away, the town recedes and the west coast begins to assert itself.

Islands dri into view, the water darkens, and light shis. Commentary is offered calmly by people who understand when to speak and when to let the scenery take over. is is not a chase. Wildlife appears on its own terms.

Seals rest on rocks, birds trace patterns overhead, and the experience unfolds patiently, rewarding those willing to look rather than expect.

For groups, reassurance comes quickly. Boats are stable and comfortable,boarding is well managed, and even hesitant travellers settle into the journey. ere is space to sit quietly or talk soly, to watch or simply be carried along.

What stays with me is the sense of coherence. e coastline makes sense from the water. Distances, shapes, and stories align. Returning to Oban, the town feels more connected to what surrounds it. is is a journey that never shouts for attention, yet lingers long aer the harbour comes back into view. www.sweeneyscruiseco.com

THE ROYAL YACHT BRITANNIA

SWEENEY’S CRUISE CO Oban is restless by nature.

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For groups seeking something more purposeful

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than a standard sightseeing stop, e Royal Yacht Britannia offers a rare combination of gravitas and accessibility. Permanently moored in Leith, just minutes from central Edinburgh, this former royal residence at sea transforms modern British history into a tangible, walk-through experience. It’s not about distant pageantry; it’s about proximity standing where global decisions were quietly made and seeing how formality and function coexisted aboard a working ship.

What makes Britannia particularly effective for groups is its clarity of design. e self-guided route flows logically across five decks, balancing spectacle with insight. Visitors move from the technical precision of the

Bridge and Engine Room to the restrained elegance of the State Apartments and Sun Lounge, gaining a rounded sense of life on board — ceremonial above deck, disciplined and demanding below. e audio guide system allows individuals within a group to control their pace, which matters when interests and attention spans vary.

compelling story well told. e experience doesn’t end at the gangway. e Royal Deck Tearoom provides a natural pause point a place for reflection, conversation and informal networking with views across the water.

It’s a subtle but important feature: groups don’t disperse immediately; they linger, talk, and consolidate the experience.

Ultimately, e Royal Yacht Britannia succeeds because it

From an organiser’s perspective, this is a lowfriction visit. Group booking is straightforward, capacity is managed efficiently, and the attraction is fully accessible, making it suitable for mixedability groups without compromise. ere’s enough substance here to satisfy history enthusiasts, yet the presentation remains intuitive enough for those who simply want a

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respects its audience. It doesn’t over-explain or overentertain. It trusts visitors to engage, to notice detail, and to connect the ship’s quiet dignity with the wider story of Britain’s recent past. For groups, that balance is exactly what makes the visit resonate.

Find out more: www.royalyachtbritannia.co.uk

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Groups at Fisher’s Hotel Pitlochry Location, Pitlochry is in the heart of Scotland Fisher’s is in the heart of Pitlochry Pitlochry’s largest bed stock- 140 Rooms witha generous mix of singles, twins, doubles, family and upgraded rooms Two dining rooms, buffet breakfast and table d’hote dinner menu chaging daily minimum three choices per course Pricing for 2025,2026 and 2027 (available September 2025) Coach Stop in front of the hotel

For information or to book call +44 (0) 1796 472000 or e-mail sales@fishershotel.com

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The Way North: A Rambling Journey Through Scotland

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It begins, as these things oen do, with a cup of tea going cold on the windowsill and a map spread out like an invitation. Scotland, stretching upwards like the neck of some mythic beast, had been calling quietly for years. Not in a “you must see the Highlands before you die” sort of way, but in the low, persistent hum of remembered stories: peat smoke, thick wool, the so tap of rain on tin. You start with the names. Suilven. Glenelg. Torridon. Kinlochleven.

Names that feel like something you’d find inside an old novel or perhaps a bottle of something brown and medicinal.

“e city does that clever thing of looking old without seeming tired.”

I le from King’s Cross with a rucksack, a copy of Sunset Song, and a stubborn belief that somewhere in Scotland, I’d feel less like a visitor and more like someone slowly waking up from a long sleep. e train nosed its way past York, Newcastle, and up along the coast. At Berwick-uponTweed, the carriage fell silent. Even the man with the crinkly crisps and the overenthusiastic ringtone paused to look. e sea flared silver and the cliffs rose like theatre curtains. en, with barely a shiver, we crossed into Scotland.

Edinburgh was my so landing. I stayed in a crooked little guesthouse where the windows didn’t quite shut and the toast came with butter as thick as icing. e city does that clever thing of looking old without seeming tired. I walked the Royal Mile at dusk, passing kilts and ghosts and a man playing Auld Lang Syne on a flute that looked as if it had survived Culloden. On Calton Hill, I watched the lights blink on across the Firth of Forth and felt that slightly ridiculous emotion that cities can stir – something between awe and homesickness for a place you’ve only just met.

But cities were not the point. I hired a car and pointed it vaguely northwest. My only plan was a line scribbled in biro: “Go where the land begins to forget its shape.” Which is to say, to the Highlands. ere is something about the Highlands that resists being described. You can talk about the scale – the mountains that rise like sentences unfinished, the lochs that hold the sky like a mirror. But none of that quite captures the stillness, the hush. I stayed one night near Glencoe, in a converted croer’s cottage where the tap water came straight from the burn and tasted like snow. at night, wind fretted at the window and the moon hung heavy above the black slope of Buachaille Etive Mòr. I’d meant to write a postcard. I didn’t.

I just sat.

I spent another day climbing up through Glen Nevis,

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pausing every five minutes to look at a rock or drink water or, more truthfully, to question my life choices. A woman passed me on the way down, wearing trail runners and a headband that said Feel the Munro. She grinned and said, “First time?” I nodded.

“You’ll be back,” she said, and disappeared into the mist like a motivational ghost.

Some days I walked, some days I simply drove with the windows down and Radio Scotland burbling about sheep and shinty. Somewhere north of Fort William, I stopped at a lay-by and met a man selling tablet from the back of his car. “Careful,” he warned. “Once you’ve had a square, you’ll want a dozen.”

He was right. I ate four before I got back on the road and didn’t sleep for nine hours.

One evening I found myself in Ullapool. I hadn’t meant to.

I’d taken a le instead of a right and followed the coast because it looked interesting.

Ullapool, it turns out, is a kind of miracle. A crescent of white houses between hills and harbour, with gulls like punctuation marks in the sky.

I sat outside e Ceilidh Place with a bowl of cullen skink – the kind of soup that makes you want to apologise to all the soups you’ve previously called “delicious.” Across the way, a group of local lads were discussing the ferry timetable and whether it was “real weather” or just “pretend weather” – a distinction I never quite grasped.

like a shower and more like the air itself has turned damp with opinion. I passed through tiny villages where the shops were closed “due to weather” and the post office doubled as a café, gi shop, and probably emergency shelter. In one, Achiltibuie, I had a cup of tea so strong it could have walked itself over to me. e woman behind the counter said, “It’ll clear by ursday,” which I assumed was her being hopeful until she added, “It always does.”

She was right. ursday arrived like a blessing.

Scotland plays with weather the way a cat plays with string.

It’s never what you think.

One morning on Skye I woke to fog so thick it seemed to have opinions. By noon the sun had burned a hole in it the size of Raasay, and by tea time

It rained for two days straight aer that. Not hard, not even miserably – just that persistent drizzle that’s less 16

I was sunburned and buying emergency oatcakes in Portree. Skye, though, is worth every baffling forecast. I spent a day walking to the Old Man of Storr and another losing time among the fairy pools, where the water runs so clear it looks as if it might not be there at all. In one of the smaller glens, I met a woman selling heather honey and postcards with her dog’s face on them. “Tourism,” she said, “is the art of making strangers feel local.” at phrase stayed with me.

“Strangers feel local.” at was it. e further north I went, the more welcome I felt. Not in the forced “have a nice day” sense, but in the quiet generosity of a shared thermos or a wave from a postman who’d just passed you three miles back. In Durness, I

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joined a game of pub quiz and ended up staying three pints longer than intended.

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Somewhere outside Lairg, a man in a high-vis jacket helped me change a tyre and told me the story of his favourite cow. I didn’t catch the name of the cow but I remember her temperament – “firm, but fair.”

At one point, somewhere along the North Coast 500, I stopped the car and got out just to listen. ere was nothing but the rustle of grass and the occasional distant bleat. It was, I think, the quietest place I’ve ever been. at kind of silence makes you realise how much noise you carry around inside you.

I turned east through the Cairngorms, past Aviemore, where the trees began to look tidier and the roads less like riddles. In Pitlochry, I stayed at a B&B run by two women who fed me haggis with a reverence usually reserved for communion wafers. ey told me I’d “just missed the salmon” and that if I hurried I might still catch the tail end of a local music night in the town hall. I did, and watched a fiddler with no shoes play a reel so fast I swear the floorboards moved. ere are towns in Scotland that feel like they’ve been waiting for you to notice them. Dunkeld is one of them. It sits on the banks of the Tay like a slightly smug cat, content to let the bigger places do the showing off. ere’s a cathedral there, half-ruin, halfoperational, where you can sit among the stones with a flask and watch the river slide by. Nearby is the Birnam Oak, which may or may not have inspired Shakespeare’s Macbeth, depending on whom you ask and how many whiskies they’ve had.

And yes, there was whisky. I tried to be sensible. A dram here, a tour there. But in Duown, which has more distilleries than people who can pronounce “Glenfiddich” correctly, restraint began to feel rude. I joined a small tasting group led by a man called Ewan, who described each whisky the way one might describe ex-lovers – “surprisingly floral,” “a bit aggressive,” “best enjoyed with water and low expectations.” I le slightly more

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“ere was nothing but the rustle of grass and the occasional distant bleat.

It was, I think, the quietest place I’ve ever been. at kind of silence makes you realise how much noise you carry around inside you.”

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informed, considerably more cheerful, and with a bottle I could barely afford but was assured would “age well, like a Presbyterian.”

My last night was spent in the Borders, in a stone inn near Melrose where the only menu was handwritten and the pudding came with two sauces “because you look like you need cheering.” I did. Not from anything in particular – just the vague melancholy that arrives when a journey’s ending and you’re not entirely sure what it meant yet. e next morning, crossing back into England, I looked in the rear-view mirror and tried to sum it all up. Scotland hadn’t given me any great revelations or cinematic epiphanies. But it had offered space – wide, generous space – to be a little smaller, a little quieter, and to remember the

pleasure of slow things. No grand resolutions, just a quiet reconnection with what it feels like to be content in your own company and amazed by what’s just outside the window.

ptarmigans disappear into snow like they’ve mastered camouflage at a professional level. Once, just outside Oban, I stopped the car because something enormous was circling overhead.

A white-tailed eagle, someone later told me. “Good omen,” said the barman, handing me a beer. “Or bad. Hard to say with eagles.”

If you go, take your time.

Don’t try to tick off castles or bag too many Munros. Let it unfold. Watch the light. Buy the postcard. Say yes to the third dram. And when someone tells you, “Aye, it’s a bit dreich the day,” smile like you know exactly what they mean. Because soon enough, you will.

And speaking of Oban – there’s a town that smells of salt and seaweed and frying things. I had fish and chips on the harbour wall there, watching the CalMac ferry slide out towards Mull. I was halfway through my meal when a gull with the confidence of a debt collector landed next to me and stared until I offered a chip. He took it. I took it personally.

Small things, really, but they stitch together into something

And I haven’t even mentioned the birds. Not properly. You don’t need to be a twitcher to notice that the air in Scotland seems busy with wings. In the far northwest, puffins barrel through the wind like tipsy darts. In the Cairngorms, 22

lasting. A bar of soap that smelled like pine. A peat fire that crackled in a way no fire in the south ever seems to. e way locals say “aye” like it’s a small handshake, a quiet agreement that you’re exactly where you should be.

And somewhere in the middle of it all, a sense that Scotland isn’t trying to impress you. It doesn’t put on a show. It simply is. Wild, weathered, unhurried. Like it’s been there forever and will continue to be there, long aer you’ve

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“If you go, take your time.

Don’t try to tick off castles or bag too many Munros. Let it unfold.

Watch the light. Buy the postcard. Say yes to the third dram. “

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“Wild, weathered, unhurried. Like it’s been there forever and will continue to be there, long aer you’ve gone.”

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10 interesting facts about Scotland 1 2 3 4

The weather changes more often than your mind In Scotland, you can experience all four seasons before lunch. I once saw a woman in Ullapool walk past in a sundress, then ten minutes later return in a ski jacket. She didn’t look surprised. No one did.

There are more than 400 words for ‘rain’ Not all of them printable, but among the more poetic: smirr (a misty drizzle), drookit (soaked to the bone), and plowtery (a damp, blustery mess that seems to aim specifically for your socks).

The unicorn is the national animal Yes, really. Somewhere around the 15th century, Scotland decided that lions and bears were simply too mundane and opted for something horned, proud, and entirely mythical. Which, in fairness, does sum up the national spirit.

The national dish is sheep’s pluck boiled in a stomach - and it’s delicious!

Haggis sounds like a dare but tastes like comfort. Especially with neeps, tatties, and enough whisky to make you sentimental about agricultural policy.

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The right to roam is real - and glorious Scotland’s Land Reform Act means you can walk across wild land pretty much anywhere (respectfully). Just don’t pitch your tent on a golf course or try to hike through someone’s wedding photos.

There’s a beach that looks like the Caribbean Luskentyre, on the Isle of Harris, has white sand, turquoise water, and absolutely no palm trees. Just sheep. And wind. And the occasional startled tourist wondering where the coconuts are.

The village of Dull is twinned with Boring, Oregon They even had a joint festival once, which I imagine was anything but. Somewhere, Bland in New South Wales is considering joining the alliance.

Edinburgh has an extinct volcano right in the middle of it Arthur’s Seat is a gentle climb with views so dramatic they make you forgive your calves. And on windy days, it’s where scarves go to die.

Some Highland cows have a better fringe than most people!

They’re called coos, and they look like they’ve wandered out of a 1970s rock band. Beneath all that hair is a surprisingly mellow temperament and possibly a philosophy degree.

Loch Ness contains more water than all the lakes in England and Wales combined And perhaps a monster. Or perhaps just a very persistent rumour. Either way, it’s beautiful, brooding, and best approached with a thermos and low expectations.

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Scottish Castles Scotland where every road leads to adventure, whether you’re scaling peaks or just admiring them from a cosy pub.

City buzz, rugged wilds, and heart-racing thrills sit side by side. Go bold, go gentle, but whatever you do—just go.

Photograpg: Alex Baxter Blair Castle

Georgian walled garden with landscaped ponds and sculptures, or take a stroll through Diana’s Grove with its towering trees and red squirrels.

Blair Castle is group-friendly with ample coach parking, discounted admission for parties of 10 or more, and the Tullibardine Restaurant offering hot meals, snacks and traditional Scottish bakes. A well-stocked gi shop completes the experience.

Blair Castle & Gardens Blair Castle, nestled in the heart of Highland Perthshire, offers groups a rich and rewarding day out filled with history, heritage and breathtaking scenery. Set against the backdrop of the Grampian Mountains, this

striking white-walled castle has been home to the Atholl family for over 700 years.

From Mary, Queen of Scots to Queen Victoria, the castle has hosted many historic figures, and the stories woven through each room bring its fascinating past to life.

Beyond the castle walls, visitors can enjoy the 9-acre Hercules Garden, a beautifully restored

Groups can explore 19 grand rooms filled with fine furniture, arms and armour, and one of Scotland’s best private collections of art and antiques.

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Whether your group is interested in Scottish history, architecture or natural beauty, Blair Castle delivers a memorable and enriching Highland day out. www.blair-castle.co.uk

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Explore the ancestral home of the Earls of Strathmore & Kinghorne, where Queen Elizabeth The Queen Mother spent her childhood and HRH The Princess Margaret was born.

Adventure awaits at Glamis...

Guided Castle Tours Historic Gardens Picnic & Play Area Restaurant Gift Shop Seasonal Events

E: Enquiries@glamis-castle.co.uk T: 01307 840393 From March-October 10am-5pm Monday-Sunday From November-December 10am-5pm Thursday-Sunday

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Glamis Castle Glamis Castle offers groups an unforgettable journey through Scottish history, legend and grandeur. Set in the rolling countryside of Angus, this magnificent castle is famed as the childhood home of HM Queen Elizabeth e Queen Mother and the legendary setting of Shakespeare’s Macbeth.

Groups are welcomed with a choice of guided or self-led tours through the castle’s richly decorated rooms, each filled with period furniture, artwork and fascinating tales. Highlights include the lavish drawing room, the royal apartments, and stories of secret chambers and resident ghosts.

Outside, the beautifully kept gardens offer a peaceful stroll through seasonal blooms, Italian borders and ancient yew hedges. ere’s also a charming nature trail and a sculpture walk to enjoy at your own pace.

Glamis Castle has excellent facilities for groups, including coach parking, discounted admission, and a range of catering options from light lunches to traditional aernoon teas in the on-site café. e gi shop is well stocked with Scottish-made souvenirs and local produce.

history or stunning architecture, Glamis Castle promises a rich and rewarding day out in one of Scotland’s most iconic settings.

Find out more at glamis-castle.co.uk Legends and Loch Views at the Loch Ness Visitor Centre For a group day out filled with mystery, history and breathtaking Highland scenery, the Loch Ness Visitor Centre offers a captivating experience on the shores of Scotland’s most famous loch. Located in the village of Drumnadrochit, the centre brings the legend of Nessie to life through immersive exhibits, dramatic storytelling and scientific exploration.

Groups can journey through seven themed rooms using audio-visual presentations and interactive displays that explore the geology of the Great Glen, the history of the Loch Ness Monster sightings, and the ongoing search for answers beneath the deep waters.

Special rates are available for groups of 10 or more, with free coach parking and a welcoming team on hand to assist with itineraries. A gi shop, café, and nearby walking trails make this a perfect stop for coach parties and travel clubs.

To plan your visit, go to www.lochness.com

Whether your group is drawn by royal connections, dramatic

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