We set off from home at what felt like an ungodly hour, the car packed to the roof with everything we thought we might need for a week by the sea. Norfolk never seems quite as close as the satnav suggests, and by the time we finally turned off the main road towards Mundesley the children had gone from excited to suspiciously quiet. The last stretch down a narrow lane was when it happened: I managed to clip the wing mirror on a particularly enthusiastic bramble, sending it swinging like a broken wing. We pulled over, laughed at my terrible parking, and carried on, the mirror now folded in like a sulky bat.

Meadow Manor sat just back from the cliffs, a neat little cottage with a view straight out to the grey-blue horizon. The key was waiting in the lockbox exactly as promised, and the moment we stepped inside the smell of fresh bread from the welcome hamper made the whole journey feel worthwhile. The living room was bright and cosy, with big windows that caught the afternoon light and a sofa that looked as though it had been chosen for proper lounging rather than just looking nice. Upstairs the bedrooms were simple but spotless, and the children immediately claimed the one with the view of the garden.

We wandered out to explore the patch of lawn before unpacking properly. The air smelled of salt and cut grass, and gulls wheeled overhead, arguing about something important. From the back gate we could just make out the path that wound down towards the beach, the sound of waves already drifting up on the breeze. It felt properly away from everything, yet close enough that we could hear the occasional car on the coast road if we listened for it.

Later, after we’d made tea and claimed the best mugs, we sat on the little bench by the hedge and watched the light change over the fields. The journey already felt distant, the silly mirror incident turning into one of those stories we’d tell later. I found myself thinking how rarely we actually stop and notice the small things—the way the cottage smelled of clean linen, the particular shade of green in the garden, the fact that no one needed to be anywhere in a hurry. For once, the long drive had been worth it, and we hadn’t even unpacked the beach bags yet.