Another windy day dawns on the Llyn Peninsula, our last day in fact, before we drive back to London. It will also be a shortish walk as there is no public transport from here on and the taxis cost a fortune.

So here we are back at Plas yn Rhiw to walk west this time – and the house and gardens are still closed.

It is important on these walks to end up in a place where there is a cafe or pub to rest while waiting for the bus or a taxi. This is why we are walking in the opposite direction today as the National Trust house, gardens and cafe are closed for the winter.

Leaving our car parked alongside the harbour we walk down to the sea and along the promenade. There is a fierce wind coming off the sea so we decide not to walk along the beach. Before setting off we take a minute to read some of the small epitaphs written on pebbles which are firmly glued onto a circular stone wall with benches.

From our hotel in Cricceth we take the train to Penychain, where we started last time on our walk to Porthmadog – this time we are walking in the opposite direction. I am amazed that the train actually stops here because as far as I can see there is nothing but a lone farmhouse, which we pass by a few minutes later.

Damian drops me off at the bus stop where we stopped last night and I head down a track running along the edge of Porthmadog golf course. It is early and there is no-one out – golf buggies stand waiting expectantly.

Glen yr afon consists of a knot of houses and a bus stop, roughly two miles west of Porthmadog – but more on that later.

For some reason I do not appear to have many photos of this walk and the first one I have is very strange indeed – captions very welcome…….

A huge help for our walks in this area is a lovely little train line that runs along a section of the West Wales coast from Aberystwyth to Pwllheli. This means that 15 minutes after getting on the train at Harlech we roll into Dyffryn Adudwy station, and 5 mins later we’re back on the beach where we stopped last October.

A rainbow appears as we set off along Barmouth promenade, which is very long and completely featureless. A row of bedraggled palm trees, locked tightly into their planters, is the only attempt to liven up the front – we decide to walk along the beach as far as we can.