Boots Before Beef: Five Anglesey Coastal Leg-Stretchers That Earn the Roast

Sunday lunch at the Black Lion has a rhythm to it. There is the plate, obviously — but there is also the hour before it, when the light is flat, the lanes are empty and the island is doing that thing it does best: looking quietly dramatic for no particular reason.

The five walks below are all short. None needs a map, a full day or a summit. What they need is a decent pair of boots, half an eye on the tide and just enough self-control not to stop at the first bench you pass. Do one, come back muddy, sit down, eat.

A word before we start: the times below are walking time, not driving time, and every one of these is a comfortable drive from our door. Two of them are much better at low water, so check a tide table before you pull your boots on — or just ask at the bar, where someone will almost certainly know.

1. Penmon Point — forty minutes, one lighthouse and a satisfying sense of smugness

Park at the far end of the toll road, where a small charge buys you one of the best short out-and-backs on the island. The track to the lighthouse is mostly level, slightly gravelly and takes about twenty minutes each way at a stroll, which means it fits neatly into the gap between a lazy breakfast and a one o'clock table.

Puffin Island sits offshore like a shipping forecast made solid, and the tide race through the narrows is genuinely impressive on a spring tide — the sort of thing that makes children go quiet for a moment. Dogs are welcome but should be on the lead near the cliff edges and around the lighthouse buildings. Sturdy trainers will cope; boots are better after rain.

Why it earns the roast: short, salty and photogenic, and the walk back gives you a proper appetite for crackling.

2. Red Wharf Bay to Traeth Bychan — the flat one that suits everybody

The sand at Red Wharf Bay (Traeth Coch) is one of the great free pleasures of this coast, and at low water you can walk out a long way before you meet anything resembling a wave. Head east along the coast path towards Traeth Bychan and you get a gentle hour of shoreline, rock pools and boats pulled up on shingle.

Stay on the higher, firmer sand near the channel — the middle sections can be soft and squidgy after rain. Dogs can stretch out on the sand but keep them close around the birds, and respect any seasonal restrictions on the beach itself. This is the walk to choose when you have a mixed group: grandparents, children, a reluctant teenager and a spaniel will all manage it.

Why it earns the roast: almost no climbing, and wet sand is strangely tiring in a way that justifies a second Yorkshire pudding.

3. Moelfre to Lligwy — lifeboats, limestone and a beach at the end

Start at Moelfre, where the lifeboat station and the little heritage centre tell the story of a village that has made a business of rescuing people from the sea for nearly two centuries. From there the coast path runs north-east along low limestone cliffs to Lligwy beach, roughly forty minutes at a decent pace.

The going is easy but uneven underfoot — this is a path of stone and roots rather than a promenade. The beach at Lligwy is broad and sheltered, good for a paddle and a five-minute sit-down before you turn around. If you have a spare twenty minutes and a head for a small inland detour, the Din Lligwy hut circles up the lane are quietly extraordinary and usually empty.

Why it earns the roast: it has a proper destination at both ends, which is more than most short walks can claim.

4. Aberffraw and the estuary — the one that needs the tide

This is the walk to save for a Sunday when low water lands conveniently. From the village, a short lane and a boardwalk take you out into the dunes, all marram grass and soft sand, and then down to the estuary channel. Across the water sits St Cwyfan's — the church in the sea, stranded on its own little island, which looks implausible in photographs and even better in person.

At low water you can wander out and around; when the tide is filling, do not. The channel moves quickly and the sand is deceptive, so this is a walk for the two hours either side of low tide and no heroics. Forty minutes to an hour will do it comfortably, and the dunes alone are worth the trip even if you never reach the church.

Why it earns the roast: because you will have checked a tide table, made a decision and felt briefly like a competent outdoors person.

5. Church Island, Menai Bridge — the twenty-minute wonder

For those Sundays when time has run away with you, there is this. Park in Menai Bridge, walk down to the Belgian promenade, then take the steps up and over the little causeway to Church Island. Ten minutes of gentle climbing buys you a churchyard, yews, and a view of the strait that makes the two bridges look far more elegant than they do from a car.

It is short enough to be an amble rather than a walk, but it counts. No mud, no tide, no kit list.

Why it earns the roast: the lowest-effort route to a view on the island, and the one you can do in a drizzle.

The practical bits, briefly

• Boots you do not mind getting wet, plus a towel for the dog
• A tide table, printed or on your phone, for Penmon and Aberffraw especially
• A few coins or a card for toll roads and honesty-box car parks
• A table booked in advance — Sunday lunch is Sunday lunch

Walk first, eat second

It sounds obvious, but the order matters. An hour and a half of cold air and salt does something to an appetite that no amount of pre-lunch chat can replicate. Aim to be back by half twelve, boots off by quarter to, and settled in front of the fire with a pint you have genuinely earned.

The roast will still be a roast. It just tastes better when you have walked to it.