What a difference a day makes….Prestatyn Beach or Barkby Beach as it’s marked on the map, is deserted this morning, apart from a couple of dog walkers. It’s a grey day.

The path soon climbs up from the beach onto a boardwalk which winds its way through the dunes but then peters out into rough grass. That small figure you can see on the skyline is Damian who walks faster than me and very rarely looks behind him to see if I’m still there. The only time I do overtake him is when he stops to talk to sheep or cows or any other animal that will listen.

There is a lot of this about – I think it’s called sea holly.

After a couple of miles of dune/beach walking the landscape changes and becomes marshland

……… the heads of these bullrushes look like tufts of fleece you often see stuck on barbed wire.

Solitary flowers provide colour ….this one an orchid and the other I only know by the rather prosaic name of red hot poker.

At one point a boardwalk turns off left up to a viewpoint. I decide to wait while Damian goes to investigate – my back has started to hurt and I need a rest.

This is what he sees – a breathtaking view but you might need to turn the volume down, the wind is fierce.

It is to here, to this isolated expanse, that the little tern flies back from West Africa every year to nest on the shingle beach – the only colony in Wales. This is what it looks like…..

A little later we walk into an area called The Warren – a campsite appears with a very well tended entrance. I later learn that this area was a popular holiday destination after the Second World War when families were evacuated from Liverpool to temporary wooden homes and caravans. We wonder whether Damian’s mother, who was indeed evacuated from Liverpool to Wales ever came here – one of the many questions we never get round to asking before it’s too late.

Back on the very windy beach we pass two detectorists (how I loved that series) and a dustbin – I don’t think they’re connected but I find myself wondering who would come and empty one dustbin on two miles of empty beach?

Struggling on soft sand we slowly trudge towards the headland known as the Point of Ayr. To mark the spot is a battered old lighthouse with a slight lean. Built in 1776 it housed two lights, one directed towards Llandudno (west) and the other directed up the Dee Estuary. It is a handsome thing.

From the lighthouse we turn right to follow the bank of the River Dee. On our left are marshes and to the right a large gas terminal. We read an information board which tells us not to be alarmed if we see flames shooting out of any of the chimneys – it’s just excess gas being burned off – à la Putin.

For the next couple of miles we walk through wild rough land with the occasional piece of public art commemorating the area’s mining industry. After two unsuccessful attempts Point of Ayr Colliery struck a seam in 1883 and by 1896 there were 365 men employed and 75 pit ponies. Apparently the ponies only understood Welsh, the language of the pit.

No idea…….

Needless to say it doesn’t move……….

Crossing the A548 we follow the path onto a minor road through a village called Fynnongroyw. I usually pride myself on being able to pronounce Welsh place names but this one beats me. In the village we again cross over the main road and onto a tarmac lane where I see these delightful way markers embedded in the tarmac. The symbol of the Welsh Coast Path is still clear but the arrows have faded – we see them again at another stage in the walk where some louse has dug out the middle one.

Further up the way we meet our old friend again, the A458 where there is a bit of road walking to do. There are no pavements here but fortunately there is a leafy path running parallel to the road. Not for long however and we’re soon forced back onto a narrow pavement which runs alongside the industrial buildings of Mostyn Dock.

In the town we wander around looking for the path that will take us back to the coast – and there it is, wedged between two houses – easy to miss.

After all this road walking the peace and shade of this silver birch is very welcome so we stop for a rest. On the other side of these decorative metal gates is the wide expanse of the estuary – I have been told that this landscape is easy to spot from a plane.

…….and over the other side is The Wirral where we did some walking two years ago but we still have a couple of dots to join. Looking at the map I realise that the border between England and Wales runs down the middle of this estuary but we won’t be swimming across.

Here are some more pretty metal gates – I think the local council must have quite a lot of money if it feels justified in sprucing up such an isolated area.

Turning a corner we are faced with a very strange sight – at the end of the path and rising up from behind the trees is a huge beached ship.

I have a small Fitz Carraldo moment……………………………

https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0083946/

Built in 1956 the Duke of Lancaster was in service as a passenger ferry on the Heysham Belfast crossing up until 1979 – her demise was largely due to the advent of car ferries.

Here is some more information ……

Leaving the stranded ship we turn inland and walk alongside a small stream until the path meets the main road at Llanerch Y Mor. To our left is a deserted market place with yet another nautical mystery. Our bus is in 15 minutes so we sit on one of the large white boulders and wait for it.

Distance: 11 miles