Is this Britain’s best coastal walk? Don’t answer until you've felt the spray, gasped at the views and explored the lush hills of Wales’ Lleyn Peninsula.

In a beautiful part of Wales you can, at one moment, be eating your supper alongside the farmers and fishermen in the local (and often only) hostelry; then stand on an ancient hillfort in a scene that hasn’t changed for 1,000 years.You can sail across to a tiny island, swim from the best beaches in Britain and then walk home along the coast, taking in magnificent scenery and wildlife. The ‘undiscovered’ nature of the Lleyn (or Llyn) Peninsula sings loud and true.Its northern coast is still relatively unknown, and there is a sense of being in a time-warp - it is wonderfully old-fashioned, feeling as though it has been frozen since the 1960s. But here, at the far edge of Wales, there is something else that sets the coastal walk apart. The coast path on which I am about to set out is organised and run by a non-profit making co-operative called The Edge of Wales Walk. Does it make a difference? Well, give them a ring and you’ll find a helpfulness and friendliness not common in more commercial organisations. And the co-op ethos fits the route. Not for the Lleyn the sophisticated restaurant or trendy wine bar; instead, freshly caught fish is served with mounds of chips and rustic house wine, followed by calorific puddings. All looked over and after by a group of walking enthusiasts. With the island of Bardsey at its toe, the Lleyn Peninsula is steeped in history, particularly religious history. In the fifth and sixth centuries, Celtic saints set up churches here, and in medieval times pilgrims would travel down the Lleyn, stopping at the churches en route. They ended their journey with what was often a choppy sea-crossing to Bardsey, a place that was considered to be both physically and spiritually at the edge of the world and, reputedly, the burial place of 20,000 saints. So hazardous was the journey across to the island, that the Pope decreed that three pilgrimages to Bardsey equalled one to Rome, thus making it a particularly holy place.

While today few of us have the deep beliefs of our medieval forbears, the Edge of Wales Walk is still at the least a relaxing and tranquil experience, and a spiritual one.

The walk is based on the old pilgrims’ way - most of it is along sandy beaches and clifftop paths, with about eight per cent on quiet lanes, and 15 per cent on moorland. Inevitably there is some urban road walking as you drop down into towns and villages along the way, but this is a very minor part of the walk.

 The walk stretches 45 miles with a two-mile boat trip at the end to Bardsey. It has been divided into ‘bite-sized’ sections that can be done as relatively easy days of about eight miles, or joined together to make longer sections of up to 14 miles.

DAY ONE: 13km / 8 miles

The sun is shining, the sky is azure blue and I am starting on day one at Clynnog Fawr. Now only a tiny settlement, it has a huge church dedicated to St Beuno. A chapel shelters the shrine of the saint, and a nearby holy well has niches where clothes could be left while pilgrims took the healing waters. The walk winds up lanes from the valley, climbing steadily on to and across moors. After a long moorland stretch I descend to the grey stone village of Llanaelhaearn and its ancient church, furnished with box pews probably dating from the sixth century. And so ends day one - no other walkers, just peace and tranquillity.

DAY TWO: 13 km / 8 miles

Having had an easy eight-mile walk yesterday, there’s tougher terrain ahead today, starting with a steep detour to Tre’r Ceiri, (loosely translated as the town of the Giants), the largest and best preserved Iron Age hillfort in Wales. In a five-acre site enclosed by ramparts are the jumbled, grey stone remains of more than 150 huts, which in the hillfort’s heyday during the Roman occupation would have been a busy, noisy and probably smelly place. Now, other than the sigh of the wind and the sound of birdsong, it is silent, although it is still easy to visualise the huts as they would once have been. A steep track with hairpin bends takes me down to Nant Gwrtheyrn (the valley of Vortigen) and, for the first time, to the coast. Vortigen was king of Britain in the fifth century, but after upsetting both his own people and the Saxons he fled to Wales, where he led a colourful life in which dragons, Merlin and myth loom large. Legend has it that Vortigen ended up here, where his palace was destroyed by fire from heaven, after which he drowned by leaping into a wild sea.

DAY THREE: 17 km / 11 miles

Today, the sun is shining, the sea is calm and there are no signs of fire from heaven. The site, later home to miners in the nearby granite quarries, is now the Welsh National College for Language and Culture. Sitting in the small cafe, eating excellent tea cakes, it feels like a foreign country, as the students around me are busily practising Welsh.

Fully refreshed, I set off on a track through sessile oak woods, where stunted trees have been twisted into wonderful shapes by the wind. This sharp, steep climb after my indulgence in tea cakes is quite a challenge. But having got my breath back, I continue through stone-walled meadows to yet another ancient pilgrim church at Pistyll.

This section of the walk ends at what was once the principal town on the Lleyn - Nefyn. Edward I celebrated his victorious campaigns here, and Owain Glyndwr, one of Wales’ princes and great heroes, burnt it down. It grew prosperous from herring fishing, boat building and sea faring. Today it is architecturally a rather grey and unprepossessing place, but like everywhere on the Lleyn, it’s a friendly and hospitable place to stay.

DAY FOUR: 13 km / 8 miles

A straightforward but stunning eight miles lie ahead today along the coast from Nefyn. I take an unintended detour when I head too far inland, and then have an adventurous scramble across a stream and through trees to get to the other side of the small valley at Aber Geirch. Reaching the tiny harbour at Dinllaen, which now belongs to The National Trust, I meet a group of photographers from East Anglia who are doing a ‘this is Wales’ photographic project. It includes, in one instance, taking a photo of the word ‘Merched’ (the ladies’ toilet sign in Welsh). We’re all too late for the wildflowers that must be plentiful in the spring and, despite the fact we keep our eyes on the water, we don’t see any seals, but we’re told they are a common sight.

The absence of seals is more than compensated by wide sweeping coastal views, and colours ranging from the deep blue of the sea and sky to the terracotta and grey cliffs. The myriad of greens to be seen inland complete the picture, and I am struck by the peace and tranquillity. I make a mental note to definitely come back here one day.

DAY FIVE:

Perhaps I’ve saved the best until last, because my final day takes me along a fabulous stretch of peaceful and spectacular coastline.

The route begins along the cliffs, takes a short inland detour, then returns to the coast above the lovely sweep of Whistling Sands Bay. A steady climb takes me up to the clifftop again, and as I approach Aberdaron I spy Bardsey for the first time. This is also the first occasion when I encounter other walkers during my entire trip - a reasonably well-known composer and a Reiki healer. Perhaps it’s her influence, but soon afterwards I finally see seals basking in the warmth. Aberdaron is now popular for family holidays, but it also has visible reminders of its place as part of the pilgrim route. The church, with its spectacular setting overlooking the beach and its churchyard wall washed by the sea, was founded in the sixth century, although the large church dates mainly from the 12th and l6th centuries. In the centre of the tiny town is Gegin Fawr (Big Kitchen), where pilgrims took their last meal before crossing to Bardsey, and there is still a cafe today.Bardsey remains a spiritual retreat, but it is now also a bird sanctuary. Its Welsh name is Ynys Enlli, meaning Island of the Currents, and the stretch of water between the peninsula and the island itself is one of the most treacherous in the British Isles. This means that the boat to the island only sails when conditions are safe – which they are not for me. It’s a disappointment, but in a way I don’t mind - Bardsey is just keeping its secrets for another day. Time to conclude as I head home. If reasonably challenging walks with breathtaking coastal and mountain views is your bag, then you’ll love the charm of this old-fashioned corner of the principality. Peace, quiet and a trace of sanctity allow you to appreciate this walk at your own pace. Add to that the fact that you are treading a path created and looked after by enthusiasts, and you’ll want to visit again and again.