The Pentland Hills: Scotland’s First Great Escape

Wide view over the Pentland Hills in August with purple heather in the foreground and Glencorse Reservoir and rounded green hills beyond.
The Pentlands in full August heather, Glencorse Reservoir below — barely 30 minutes from Edinburgh.

Overview — the hills on Edinburgh’s back doorstep

If you’re driving up into Scotland from the south — from Northumberland, or across from Peebles and the Borders — the Pentland Hills are the moment the country changes. One minute you’re on the main road; the next you’re parked below a horseshoe of smooth green hills, a reservoir glinting in the glen, and a footpath climbing away into the quiet. And it’s all barely half an hour from the middle of Edinburgh.

For us this became one of those places we came back to again and again — we did a number of walks here over several days, based right in the car park in the Hymer. A proper leg-stretch of a walk, one of the best wee cafés we’ve found at the start of any hill, our dog absolutely in her element, and somewhere to spend the night on the doorstep of the paths. If you want your first taste of Scottish hill country before you’ve even reached the Highlands, this is it.

We’ve come here in two very different seasons — high summer, when the slopes above Glencorse turn magenta with heather, and the depths of December, with bare trees, the burn in full spate and the odd bright blue-sky top. Both are on this page, because both are worth having: the Pentlands are a genuinely year-round hill, and out of season they feel wilder and more your own.

The story — Edinburgh’s “hills of home”

The Pentland Hills roll for about 20 miles southwest out of Edinburgh, and they’ve been the city’s escape hatch for centuries. Robert Louis Stevenson grew up in their shadow and called them the “hills of home” — he knew these paths long before he wrote Treasure Island.

The reservoirs tucked into the glens aren’t natural lochs; Glencorse Reservoir and its neighbours were built to slake the thirst of a growing Edinburgh, and they’ve since become the calm, mirror-flat heart of a walk. The lines of Scots pine along the water are the giveaway — planted, deliberate, and now one of the most photographed sights in the range.

Today the whole area is the Pentland Hills Regional Park: working sheep farms, well-kept paths, ranger-run visitor facilities, and a genuine sense of wildness that has no business being this close to a capital city.

Green fingerpost signpost in the Pentland Hills reading Scald Law, Glencorse Reservoir by Old Filter Beds and Glencorse View Walk, with a Pentland Hills waymarker disc.
The signpost that sets the day: Scald Law one way, Glencorse Reservoir the other. This is Flotterstone, the main eastern gateway into the hills.

What you’ll actually see and do

The main event is the walk in from the Flotterstone car park, following the track past the old filter beds and along Glencorse Reservoir into the hills, then climbing as far as your legs (and the weather) fancy. You don’t need to be a hill-walker: the low reservoir path is easy and gives you the best of the views, while the braver route carries on up toward Scald Law, the highest of the Pentlands at 579 m, and the rounded tops around it.

What sticks with you:

  • The reservoir and the pines — still water, that distinctive line of Scots pine on the spit, sheep-cropped fields running down to the shore.
  • The August heather — for a few short weeks in late summer the slopes above the water turn full magenta, bell heather and ling together, right up to the path edge.
  • The waterfall — after winter rain the burn tumbles down in real spate; a proper roaring highlight on a grey day.
  • The dog paradise — miles of open path, burns to splash in, and space to roam (leads near the sheep, always).
  • The quiet — climb 20 minutes and, even on a summer weekend, you have the tops to yourselves.
Glencorse Reservoir in the Pentland Hills in summer with a line of Scots pine on a spit crossing the water and green hills beyond.
The pine-lined spit on Glencorse — the classic Pentlands reservoir view.
A Pentland hillside covered in magenta and purple heather in full bloom in August.
Why August is the month — the heather does this for only a few short weeks.
A walker with a rucksack and a small white dog heading down a path into a Pentland glen with the reservoir beyond.
Heading down to the water — the low path is the easy, scenic option, and Lillie leading the way as ever.
🗺️ Find it: open the exact spot in Google Maps →
A waterfall in full winter spate crashing down a rocky burn in the Pentland Hills, a walker in a green jacket standing beside it among bare trees.
The burn in December — full spate after the rain, and worth the muddy detour.
Two walkers in warm winter gear taking a selfie on a grassy Pentland hilltop under a clear blue winter sky.
And then the clouds lift — a bright, cold blue-sky day on the tops. This is why you go anyway.
A walker heading up a grassy path into the Pentland Hills on a bright winter day, low sun on the golden hillsides.
The low path along the hills — easy underfoot and the best of the views without the full climb.
A walker on a Pentland path with golden winter hills rolling away under a big sky
Push a little higher and the whole range opens out — golden winter grass and hills folding away to the south.
A woman and her dog inside the dog-friendly Pentland Hills Cafe at Flotterstone on a wet day.
Another wet-day hour in the Flotterstone cafe — Lillie under the table, waiting for the walk to dry out.
A small white dog on a wide gravel path in the Pentland Hills beside a wooden waymarker post.
Lillie on the trail. Miles of open, waymarked path — our wee tourer was in her element here.

The Flotterstone café — genuinely the best bit

Here’s the part that makes the Pentlands so easy: at the Flotterstone visitor centre, right by the car park where the walk starts, there’s a proper little café — Pentland Hills Café Express — run alongside the ranger base. Walk first, warm up after; that was our order of the day, and on a wet December afternoon it was heaven.

It’s cosy, dog-friendly, hung with fairy lights and “Welcome to the Pentlands” bunting, with big ranger info boards on the walls — the regional-park map, wildlife, the moorland code — so you can plan the next walk over a coffee. And the hot chocolates are a thing of beauty: proper mugs, chocolate drizzle, the works.

The green-painted Pentland Hills Café Express building at the Flotterstone visitor centre.
Pentland Hills Café Express at Flotterstone — soup, coffee and the finest hot chocolate at the trailhead.
A large mug of hot chocolate topped with chocolate drizzle on a wooden café table.
The reward. This is exactly what you want to come off a cold hill to.
Two bowls of soup with grilled bread and butter on patterned plates on a wooden café table at the Pentland Hills.
Or in summer: hot soup and grilled bread. Walk first, eat after — the only correct order.
Inside the cosy Flotterstone café, a couple and a small dog at a table under a Welcome to the Pentlands banner and fairy lights.
Warm, dog-friendly and hung with bunting — we spent a good while in here between walks.
A Welcome to the Pentland Hills Regional Park information board showing a map of the paths and reservoirs.
The whole park on one board — a good spot to plan tomorrow’s route.
A woman with a cappuccino in the dog-friendly Pentland Hills Cafe at Flotterstone.
A cappuccino at the trailhead cafe — the warm-up between two walks.

Best time to visit

August is the famous window — the hillsides turn purple with heather for a few short weeks (roughly mid-August into early September). But don’t wait for it: the Pentlands are a year-round walk, and our December trip proved it — bare, dramatic, the burn in spate, and the odd stunning blue-sky day between the grey ones.

A walker and small dog on a hill path in August with heather, rounded green Pentland hills and Glencorse Reservoir stretching into the distance.
August: heather, big skies and the reservoir below — your first Scottish hill country coming up from the south.
The grey winter water of Glencorse Reservoir in the Pentland Hills with bare hills rising into low cloud.
December: same glen, stripped back — no crowds, no colour, just the hills doing their quiet winter thing.
A tan-and-white dog in a blue harness sitting on a grassy Pentland hillside looking out over the hills.
Lillie taking in the view. She toured the whole of Scotland with us — and the Pentlands were a firm favourite. Just keep dogs close near the sheep.

Two honest notes:

  • These are breezy, exposed hills — bring proper layers and a waterproof whatever the month; the tops make their own weather, and in winter it’s cold and can turn fast.
  • On the plus side, that same wind keeps the midges down — this is not a midge-plagued spot the way the west coast can be. In winter, of course, there are none at all.
A fingerpost and a Sheep Grazing Area sign on an open, grassy shoulder of the Pentland Hills.
Working hills — this is active sheep country, so keep the dog close near the flocks.

Parking, the café & overnight in the motorhome

The Flotterstone car park is the obvious base: level, surfaced, right by the visitor centre and café, and the jumping-off point for the Glencorse and Scald Law walks. We parked the Hymer 594 and the T25 here across several days and used it as a proper little home in the hills.

A white Hymer motorhome and a VW T25 campervan parked in the wet Flotterstone car park in the Pentland Hills on a grey winter day.
Base camp. The 594 and the T25 in the Flotterstone car park — walk out of the door and straight up the glen.

Staying overnight: we stayed here and it made a brilliant base right on the doorstep of the paths. One honest caveat — regional-park car parks like this can change their rules (paid tickets, time limits, height barriers), so check the current signage and any overnight restrictions before you rely on it. When we visited it was straightforward; that won’t necessarily hold forever.

Scottish Outposts tip: it’s a normal, level surfaced car park — fine for our 594 and most campervans and mid-size motorhomes. If a height barrier ever goes in, larger motorhomes may be shut out, so have a back-up in mind.

A yellow honesty donation box for the Pentland Hills Regional Park, asking for contributions to look after the park.
Drop a couple of quid in the honesty box — it goes straight back into looking after the paths you’re walking.

And the pub

Right by the Flotterstone entrance sits the Flotterstone Inn — a proper walkers’ pub with a sign behind the bar that reads “beer is cheaper than therapy.” After a wet hill, a pint by the fire is exactly the therapy required.

A woman in a green jumper smiling and holding up a pint of lager in the Flotterstone Inn near the Pentland Hills, a sign reading beer is cheaper than therapy behind her.
The Flotterstone Inn — first pint after the first hill. The sign says it all.

Tie it together — coming into Scotland from the south

The Pentlands are the perfect first stop as you cross into Scotland from the south, and there are really two ways in. Pick your gateway:

1. Up through Peebles & the Borders (the A703). Coming from Carlisle, the M6 or the Borders, the road up through Peebles runs you along the southern end of the Pentlands themselves — the range spills right down toward the Tweed valley. You can be parked at Flotterstone with a hot chocolate in hand within half an hour of leaving the Borders behind. It’s the gentlest, greenest way to arrive in Scotland.

2. Down the east coast (the A1). Coming in along the coast from Northumberland, you hit Scotland’s finest run of castle-and-beach country before you ever reach the capital — a superb day or two on the East Lothian coast before you swing inland to the Pentlands and Edinburgh:

  • North Berwick — the perfect East Lothian seaside town: two beaches, the Bass Rock offshore, and the Law to climb. Our hub for this stretch of coast.
  • Dunbar, Tantallon Castle & Tyninghame — John Muir’s red-castle town, the mighty Red Douglas fortress on its clifftop, and a glorious pine-backed beach, all strung along the A1 within a few miles of North Berwick. (Pages coming — this whole coast ties straight back to the hills.)

Whichever way you come, the Pentlands are the moment the road quietens and the hills begin. From here it’s Linlithgow and its palace 30 minutes northwest, Edinburgh barely half an hour away, and the whole of Scotland opening up to the north — the natural jump-off onto the Grand Tour and everything beyond.

Reality notes

  • 🚗 Parking / overnight: Flotterstone car park by the visitor centre and café; we overnighted here, but check current signage — regional-park car parks can move to paid/time-limited/barriered.
  • 🚐 Vehicle suitability: level surfaced car park, fine for cars, campervans and mid-size motorhomes (our 594 was no problem). Watch for any height barrier if you’re in a big rig.
  • ☕ Café: Pentland Hills Café Express at the Flotterstone visitor centre — soup, coffee, superb hot chocolate; ranger info boards inside. Dog-friendly. (Check current opening days/hours, especially in winter.)
  • 🦟 Midges: low — open, breezy hills; none at all in the winter months.
  • 🐕 Dogs: a brilliant dog walk, but it’s active sheep country — leads on near livestock, especially spring lambing.
  • 🥾 Underfoot: easy along the reservoir; rougher, steeper and boggier if you push up toward Scald Law — proper footwear, and winter kit in the cold months.
  • 🌦️ Winter: short daylight, cold tops and fast-changing weather — don’t underestimate it just because it’s close to the city.
Close-up of a purple spear thistle in flower, Scotland's national emblem, on a Pentland hillside in summer.
Scotland says hello — the thistle’s out in force on the slopes in late summer.
A small white terrier-cross dog curled on a tartan blanket, looking up at the camera.
Lillie, walked-out and happy back at the van. The best judge of a good day in the hills.

Why to carry properly in the Pentlands

The Pentlands look gentle from Edinburgh and are genuinely exposed once you are on the ridge — there is no shelter between the tops, and the weather comes across fast. If you are doing a long traverse, or carrying kit for someone else in the party, the capacity and the waterproofing both stop being luxuries. Big hills close to a city still catch people out.

Kit we’d pack

MOUNTAINTOP 80L Waterproof Rucksack

If you are carrying for a full traverse, or carrying for someone else in the party, capacity stops being optional. Eighty litres, YKK zips, an internal frame and a rain cover — the Pentlands are more exposed than their proximity to Edinburgh suggests.

★★★★½ 4.5 · 778 ratings · around £86
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MOUNTAINTOP 80L waterproof hiking rucksack
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