The Far North Line Scotland stretches from Inverness to Thurso and Wick, cutting across wild Highland landscapes and through the world’s only UNESCO-listed blanket bog. As the northernmost railway in mainland Britain, this 168-mile journey offers solitude, history, and striking scenery in equal measure.
At 07:00, I boarded the Far North Line at Inverness Station, heading deeper into the Highlands. Having once spent summers working here, I felt a familiar thrill returning to these landscapes. This journey, however, promised something new: a blend of rail romance and a closer connection to the legendary Flow Country.
Initially, the route glided through gentle farmland and small villages like Conon Bridge and Invergordon. Passengers sat quietly, clutching coffee cups, preparing for the day ahead. Outside the windows, frost dusted the fields, glinting under the early morning sun. Meanwhile, another train passed, heading back toward Inverness—yet I moved in the opposite direction, toward remoteness.
The Far North Line, built between 1862 and 1874, originally served practical goals like improving fishing and agricultural trade. However, the journey today feels far from pragmatic. As the train rumbles northward, it passes by Dunrobin Castle Station, one of the route’s most enchanting stops, although this time we glide past without halting.
Between Brora and Helmsdale, the line runs alongside the sea. Waves crash against black stones, and sheep graze peacefully. After Helmsdale, the track veers inland, approaching the famed Flow Country—a 1,544-square-mile peatland, about 2.5 times the size of London. UNESCO added it to the World Heritage List in 2024, recognizing its unmatched ecological significance.
Earlier in the week, I met Dr. Roxane Andersen, a peatland scientist from the University of the Highlands and Islands, in Lochinver. She explained how the Flow Country stores carbon, cooling the Earth’s climate by locking away greenhouse gases for millennia.
To explore this special region, Forsinard Station offers the best stop. The former train station now houses the Forsinard Flows Visitor Centre. From here, I followed the Dubh Lochan Trail along a wooden boardwalk to a two-storey lookout tower, offering sweeping views of the bog pools stretching endlessly into the horizon.
Moreover, local guide Graham Thompson highlighted the Flow Country’s solitude. “There are places here where you can walk for tens of kilometres without seeing another person,” he said. Indeed, standing atop the lookout tower, I experienced that pure wilderness firsthand.
Yet the Flow Country’s survival has faced many challenges. After the Jacobite uprising and the Highland Clearances, once-thriving communities were displaced. In the 1980s, commercial forestry further damaged the bogs. While some locals fear modern threats like expanding wind farms, Andersen remains hopeful. She sees growing collaboration among landowners, conservationists, and communities, steering the region towards a sustainable future.
Leaving Forsinard, I continued northward. The train rolled through landmarks like Georgemas Junction—the UK’s northernmost rail junction—before finally reaching Thurso. Along the way, we passed Beauly Station, Scotland’s shortest platform, and Altnabreac, the country’s most isolated station.
Although the Far North Line Scotland boasts many superlatives, its real gift lies in offering a chance to slow down. Through quiet reflection, remote landscapes, and deep-rooted histories, this journey weaves a connection between past and present.
It stands, truly, as a “legacy of past events” and a reminder that some of Britain’s wildest beauty is best explored slowly—one click and rumble of the tracks at a time.
