I’ll never forget the drive up to the North Norfolk coast – we’d packed the car to bursting with kids’ wellies, board games, and enough crisps to siege a castle, only for the sat-nav to chuck a wobbly just past Fakenham. It rerouted us down some narrow lane that felt more like a sheep’s personal runway, and there we were, stuck behind a tractor chugging along at funeral pace. The kids were chanting “Are we there yet?” like it was a new pop song, and I was sweating bullets trying not to snap. But honestly, that little mishap just built the anticipation – by the time we crested the hill and spotted the glittering saltmarshes stretching out, I was grinning like an idiot.

Pulling up to this stunning property on the Blakeney coastline was pure magic. Elevated proudly with those uninterrupted moody views across the marsh and out to sea, it’s one of the most jaw-dropping spots I’ve ever stayed. High on privacy, wrapped in luxury with artistically styled interiors that make you feel like you’ve wandered into a posh art gallery crossed with a cosy hug. First impressions? Bloody brilliant – we dumped the bags and legged it straight to the windows, watching seals bob about like they owned the place.

We were after a proper family break, nothing frantic, just simple pleasures and that lovely cottage life chaos. Mornings kicked off with brekkie chaos – me burning toast while the little ones fought over the last Weetabix, then out the door for a stomp along Blakeney Point. Those walks are gold: squelching through the mudflats, spotting avocets and little egrets darting about, with the wind whipping your cheeks pink. The kids collected crab shells and pretended they were pirates, while we parents snuck a thermos of tea and a sneaky KitKat. One afternoon, we hired bikes from the village and pootled over to Cley-next-the-Sea for chips from the beach café – salty, vinegary perfection wrapped in paper, eaten on the pebbles while gulls eyed us jealously.

Evenings were for lazy suppers in that gorgeous kitchen – I rustled up a Norfolk Ploughman’s with local cheese from the Blakeney deli, and we played endless rounds of Uno till bedtime. There was chaos aplenty: a epic Lego explosion across the lounge floor, and the youngest deciding the sofa was a trampoline mid-film night. But that’s the joy, isn’t it? No schedules, just pottering about, breathing in the sea air that makes everything feel lighter.

One quiet moment stands out – sitting on the terrace at dusk, marsh mist rolling in, kids finally knackered and tucked up. I caught myself thinking how these simple bits, the shared giggles and mucky adventures, are what recharge the soul. No Instagram perfection needed; just us, this incredible spot, and the gentle lap of the tide. If you’re craving a relaxed family escape, this is it – pure, unfiltered bliss. We’re already plotting a return.