I’ll never forget the drive to Blakeney – we’d been looking forward to this little getaway in the Forest of Dean for weeks, picturing lazy walks and proper pub lunches. Me and Sarah, just the two of us for a change, escaping the usual family whirl. But typical us, we hit a snag right at the start. About halfway there, near Cinderford, the sat-nav decided to have a funny turn and sent us down this narrow lane that barely qualified as a road. We ended up wedged behind a tractor chugging along at snail pace, with hedges scraping the sides of the car. I was laughing so much I nearly missed the turn-off, but it broke the ice perfectly – nothing like a bit of rural chaos to get you in the holiday mood.

Finally rolling up to the place, hearts racing a tad from the anticipation, we were gobsmacked by the first impressions. Perched on a hill with these cracking views over Lydney and the Severn Estuary, it’s a first-floor apartment in a converted coach house, right in the owner’s grounds. Smartly done up but with that cosy, lived-in feel – open-plan living space that just invites you to flop down and unwind. The kitchen’s a dream for knocking up simple suppers, and from the window, you gaze out over the walled courtyard below. We dumped the bags, cracked open a bottle of wine we’d brought, and just soaked it in. Perfect for a couple like us, seeking that quiet cottage life without the hassle.

Next morning, we wandered down to Blakeney itself – it’s only a hop away, that proper Forest of Dean village vibe with its old chapel and quintessentially English high street. Popped into the local shop for eggs and bacon, then ambled along the paths by the River Lyd, spotting herons and chatting about nothing much. Lunch was at the Woodman pub, just a short stroll – their ploughman’s was spot on, with local cheese that melted in your mouth. Afternoon? A gentle hike up to nearby Newnham, keeping it easy, picking blackberries and pretending we’re proper foragers. Back at the apartment, I tried my hand at a pasta bake in that well-kitted kitchen – turned out alright, if a bit wonky, which had us in stitches.

Evenings were the best bit, though. Sat out on the little balcony as the sun dipped over the estuary, watching the light fade while sipping tea. One night, we got a bit ambitious with a board game that descended into chaos – pieces everywhere, accusations of cheating flying about like confetti. It reminded me, in a quiet moment later, how these simple breaks recharge us. Life back home’s all rush and to-do lists; here, it’s the small stuff – the shared giggles over burnt toast, the comfort of just being together – that hits home. No grand adventures needed.

We left feeling lighter, already plotting a return. Blakeney’s got that magic for couples craving cottage calm with a dash of delightful disorder. If you’re after the same, pack your wellies and go.