Our Airbnb in Penygroes is part of a community enterprise scheme called Yr Orsaf https://www.yrorsaf.cymru/en/, which among other things includes a community bus. Introduced primarily as a vital supplement to limited public transport in the area, it has no objection to walkers using it to get from one isolated spot to another. Brilliant!

This time we drive our car to Porth Colmon, leaving it in the tiny carpark. Our direction is north with the sea on our left, but before we even take the first few steps, we come up against our first hurdle.

We wake to a glorious day in our wonderful hotel in Aberdaron – the plan is to walk from Porth Colmon to Mynydd Mawr, where we finished back in March.

Yes it’s raining as we step out of the bus from Bangor on to the bleak high street of Y Felinheli, a small town halfway between Caernarfon and Bangor. Turning right at the post office we head down to the Marina and get our first view of the Menai Straits.

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.