THERE are two ways to get off the island of Mull – well, three if you count swimming – but we're taking the smaller of the two ferries, which leaves Tobermory travelling north to Kilchoan on the Ardnamurchan peninsula.

It's day three of our trip travelling up the west coast of Scotland and, once again, we've been blessed with sun and it's surprisingly hot. But it's so quiet at the pier, my husband and I are wondering if we're in the right place. As it turns out, we're the only car – the only passengers, even – to be taking this sailing today, and it's a splendid treat, having our own private ferry for this flat, calm sailing.

It's much busier at the port of Kilchoan, with day-trippers heading to Mull. We hook a left turn on the peninsula, keen to make our way to the most westerly part of the British mainland, Ardnamurchan Point, which juts out into the Hebridean Sea. This remote peninsula is long and narrow and the landscape is a mixed bag: at times lush, at other moments desolate.

For now, it's the latter, and as we head north it looks barren, desert-like and reminds me of parts of New Mexico. But it's not long before this gives way to rolling hills, hidden white beaches and, finally, the breathtaking point at which Ardnamurchan Lighthouse can be found. We feel like we're at the edge of the world.

The lighthouse, which dates back to 1849, continues to operate today – albeit automatically – and was built by Alan Stevenson, uncle of writer Robert Louis Stevenson, whose family designed most of the country's lighthouses over a period of 150 years. It continues to play a vital role in safely guiding ships but it's also a splendid spot to stop for a picnic lunch, taking in the view of the islands of Muck, Eigg, Rhum and, in the distance, Skye.

After we double back then continue on the single road that crosses the peninsula, the landscape offers one revelation after another, changing from moorland to forests and lochs. Helped by the weather – we're seeing it at its best – at points we could be in California, Colorado and, as we pass along Loch Sunart with its coastal houses and moored boats, Cape Cod. We're literally uttering "oohs" and "aahs" around every bend. The website for Ardnamurchan says: "Once you find us, you'll want to keep us a secret" – and I couldn't agree more. The wonderful thing about a trip like this is finding different spots – hidden beaches or scenic inlets – that surprise and delight, and in your own country, no less; and the peninsula has been an unexpected highlight. We're already planning our return.

We cut a left, sticking close to the coast, to head north on our way to Mallaig – glimpsing the unforgettable beaches of the Silver Sands of Morar – to catch the 4pm ferry to Skye. On the way we pass Loch Ailort, with water so calm it presents a magnificent mirror image of its surrounding landscape. On board, the boat is brimming with tourists from home and abroad and we stand as close to the front of the ferry as we can, enjoying cutting through the water.

We stay the night at Kinloch Lodge, a Michelin-starred, family-run hotel with food so perfect – chef Marcello Tully is virtually impossible to fault – and staff so welcoming, that everyone should aim to visit at least once in their life. It sits right on the coast, about 15 minutes from the ferry port at Armadale.

The next day – after a breakfast that includes bowls of the world's richest, most indulgent cinnamon-spiced porridge – it's straight back on the road, this time crossing to the mainland via the Skye Bridge.

Our first stop is Plockton, a picture-perfect National Trust for Scotland conservation village on the shore of Loch Carron, which was the site for filming the TV show Hamish Macbeth. It's encased by rolling hills and tucked away like a little hidden secret, with numerous palm trees that make it feel almost tropical. This, I learn later, is due to its east-facing position, away from the winds, and its position on the north Atlantic drift; and what I thought were palms are actually cabbage trees.

Moving on – and with the A890 at this point still shut due to a rock fall – we join a timed cavalcade that is taking cars and motorcycles along railway tracks, past the damaged part of the road, along Loch Carron, saving us a lengthy detour. We make our way around the loch, as it merges into Loch Kishorn, to join the Bealach Na Ba, otherwise known as the Pass of the Cattle, as we cross over mountains to head to the isolated Applecross peninsula.

I've heard much about this road – how its vertiginous, winding tarmac is not for the fainthearted; how, in bad weather, its sheer drops make for a life-threatening drive. Today, in the sun, all 2054ft of it feels monumentally high, but this is all the better for the views, which are unparalleled and spectacular. We could be in the Alps – in fact the road is engineered in a similar fashion – and we marvel at the gritty determination of the brave few climbing this road on bicycles.

After passing the summit, the stretch down to Applecross village is smoother, and we're met by a stunning coastline – across from which the island of Raasay can be seen – a walled garden and a welcoming inn. It's time to grab a table and a drink outside, reflect on the past few days – which feel like a week – and enjoy what turns out to be an awesome orange sunset. At the tables around us, we hear many foreign voices. But then tourists come from all over the world to experience this stretch of road, whether in a car, motorcycle or bicycle. On the Bealach Na Ba, it's about the journey, not just the destination.