This is the walk that may never have happened, but there must have been a few angels about on that fateful morning.

Llannerch Y Môr is not much more than a few houses and a disused pub and as it is on a fairly busy road we are finding it difficult to find a parking space. The pub has space behind it but being the good citizens we are we don’t really want to leave the car there without asking somebody. As we dither Damian spies a couple of workmen at the top of a building site behind the pub and rather impetuously (in my opinion) roars up a rocky, sandy track and rolling the window down asks if anybody would mind us parking the car behind the pub. No problem they say, upon which Damian puts the car into reverse and rolls back down the track almost as quickly as he came up it ……….and then it happens……….there is a horrible crunching sound, the car tilts and comes to a halt. I am later told that there was no possibility of the car tipping over, but I get out of the car pretty damn quickly anyway. Damian is visibly shaken.

And then we hear it – guffaws of laughter rolling down the site………..not very kind, I think to myself.

What to do? If we can’t get the car sorted we can’t do any more walking and maybe not even be able to get the car back to London. But then the angels arrive, in the form of four dusty, good-natured Liverpudlians who immediately assure us that there is no need to panic and that they will get us out of this pickle. And that’s what they do……………………..

And yes I know – you’re thinking, “Where’s the rest of it?”

Unfortunately – at the crucial moment, I must have been so relieved, that I inadvertently turned off the camera! But anyway – this is the end product.

Phew!

But this is not where the story ends – the car is leaking petrol and the only help the AA can offer is to transport it back to London at our own expense. This is because it is an accident and not a breakdown – be warned.

Damian now decides to try his luck at a garage up the way and as I am obviously of no help I set off on the walk, having arranged to meet him whenever. Just across the road is the Welsh Coast Path sign pointing down the other side of the stream from the one we walked up yesterday.

The Duke of Lancaster rears into view again…………………………..

Turning right I follow a wide stoney track running behind the usual large boulders used as coastal defences – these are apparently called rock armour or riprap rocks.

It feels a little strange to be walking on my own again and I find myself looking over my shoulder at regular intervals – there is no-one around.

A mile up the path I come to Greenfield Dock which once was one of the busiest ports on the River Dee, but is very sleepy today.

I am by now receiving regular updates from Damian on the progress of the car repairs and we agree to meet in a pub carpark in a place called Bagillt, a couple of miles along the coast.

On the far side of the dock, a rusting buoy perches on its granite pedestal…..

And just around the corner I come across a cockle shell but alas no pretty maids all in a row. The information board tells me that due to overfishing in the 1990s there are now just 50 licensed cocklers who are allowed to take 300 kg of cockles a day. I really don’t know what all the fuss is about – the shells are lovely but I clearly remember when I was a child at the seaside, turning my nose up at what I felt were bags of gristle soaked in sharp vinegar. And I still don’t like them.

And there is The Wirral again…………….

I am now walking in an area which is marked as The Marsh on my map – it looks tempting but it’s not called a marsh for nothing – I stick to the path.

Cows in the distance…………..I cannot get over the mighty sweep of this landscape, it’s not remote, there’s civilisation close by, but it feels wild………….

By now I can see that I need to be heading inland to meet Damian – I pass a decorative steel bench besides a drainage outlet – it is actually nicer than it sounds – and allow myself a short rest. The bench was made to commemorate the miners and workers of a local colliery.

A little further on this wooden statue of a miner stares despondently into the distance. I feel for miners – my grandfather was a miner in South Wales and my grandmother a teacher. She was forced to give up her career when she married, but it is thanks to her determination that her four sons never went anywhere near a coal mine.

Turning right I walk under a railway bridge, over the A548 and onto a B road that leads to the pub in Bagillt. I meet Damian there and we drive to Flint to park the car and walk backwards (well walk westwards) back to Bagillt. We park the car in the carpark in front of Flint castle.

Opposite the castle is Flint’s Lifeboat Station – a wooden lifeboat volunteer stands looking out to sea through his binoculars.

We follow a chalky white path around the right hand perimeter of the castle into a beautiful shady allé of silver birch trees.

The path then winds around a narrow inlet, another disused dock – a trickle of water and cracked muddy banks testify to the extraordinary hot weather we’ve recently been experiencing.

…………and on the other side we walk past these – probably not a prehistoric monument but I cannot find out what they are.

Just behind the stones a heavy metal gate crosses the path with pedestrian access to the left – they really like metalwork in this area.

And now we’re back to the sandbanks and bright blue water – wonderful.

About half a mile on we are directed inland where we follow the railway line, past the sewage works, over a railway bridge and into the village of Baglitt – our bus back to Flint is due in 5 minutes.

Despite the drama of this morning and the late start, this has been an uplifting peaceful walk. And the mechanic only wanted £20!!

Distance: 10 miles