I’ll never forget the drive down to Felixstowe – we’d packed the car to bursting with kids’ beach toys, cool bags stuffed with picnic bits, and enough snacks to feed a small army. Halfway there, just past Ipswich, the sat nav decided to throw a wobbly and sent us on a merry dance through some narrow lanes that felt more like tractor tracks. The little ones were chanting “Are we there yet?” while I white-knuckled the wheel, laughing nervously to my wife about how this was supposed to be our relaxing family getaway. But honestly, that little mishap just ramped up the anticipation – by the time we spotted the sea glinting in the distance, we were buzzing.

Pulling up to the beautifully renovated apartment, right on the Undercliffe with the beach practically at our doorstep, it was love at first sight. It had this cosy, welcoming vibe – perfect for us lot, with space for the kids to sprawl out and us parents to sneak a cuppa in peace. We tumbled in, bags everywhere, and straight away flung open the windows to that jaw-dropping view: the coastline stretching out, fishing boats bobbing about, and massive container ships gliding past like gentle giants. The first evening, we watched the sun dip into the sea, painting everything orange, while the waves crashed against the pier below. Magic.

The next few days blurred into proper Suffolk seaside bliss – none of that manic rushing about, just simple pleasures and the joyful chaos of family life. Mornings started with sunrise brekkies on the balcony, the kids wolfing down toast while we sipped coffee and waved at dog-walkers on the beach. We’d mooch down to the sands for bucket-and-spade sessions, building wonky castles that the tide inevitably flattened, leaving us in fits of giggles. Felixstowe’s pier became our daily haunt – fish and chips wrapped in paper, eaten on benches overlooking the sea, with the kids dashing about on the little amusements. One afternoon, I treated us to ice creams from a van near the Landguard Nature Reserve end of the beach – proper 99s with flakes that dripped faster than we could lick.

Evenings were for ambling along the promenade, spotting seals popping up now and then, or just kicking back in the apartment with board games that descended into hilarious arguments over whose turn it was. There was that one moment of cottage-life pandemonium when the youngest decided to “help” with dinner by scattering pasta everywhere – cue me on my hands and knees, chuckling at how I’m still the world’s messiest chef, wondering if we’ll ever master this parent lark without a side of floury chaos.

Looking back, it was those unhurried bits – the sea air filling our lungs, the shared laughs over nothing much – that made it unforgettable. Felixstowe’s got that unpretentious charm, and this spot was spot-on for recharging as a family. If you’re after a laid-back Suffolk escape, you won’t go far wrong here. We’re already plotting our return.