I’ve just got back from an absolute cracker of a week in a cosy holiday cottage in Suffolk, and if there’s one thing that defined it, it was the walks—and the proper British weather doing its unpredictable best to keep us on our toes.

The cottage was one of those idyllic spots near Aldeburgh, all wonky beams, a cracking Aga, and a garden that backed onto the Suffolk countryside. Perfect for lacing up the wellies and heading out. Day one dawned bright and breezy, so we tackled the Suffolk Coast Path straight away. That stretch from Aldeburgh to Thorpeness is pure magic—crunching shingle beaches, marram grass whipping in the wind, and those funky Scallop sculptures glinting in the sun. We strode out feeling like proper ramblers, me in my new(ish) hiking boots that I swore wouldn’t give me blisters this time. Spoiler: they did, but who cares when you’ve got sea views like that?

Come afternoon, the sky turned that classic Suffolk grey, and the heavens opened. Typical! We’d planned a gentle amble inland to Snape Maltings, but nope—sudden squall meant we were dodging puddles the size of small ponds. Laughing like idiots, we ducked into a tea room for scones and endless pots of builder’s brew. It was one of those moments where you reflect: why do I always pack trainers instead of proper waterproofs? Lesson learned, again.

Next day, brighter but with a sneaky chill, we went for the RSPB Minsmere reserve. Flat as a pancake in places, but those bird hides and reed beds make for brilliant wandering. We spotted avocets and marsh harriers—proper twitcher heaven—until the fog rolled in off the North Sea like a duvet. Plans to extend to Dunwich Cliffs? Scrubbed. Instead, we looped back through the heathland, mud up to our knees, pretending we were Bear Grylls. I’ll admit, there was a quiet moment by a bench overlooking the marshes where I thought, “This is it, innit? Sod the spa holidays; nothing beats getting properly immersed in Suffolk’s wild side, rain or shine.”

By midweek, we’d adapted to the weather whims. A crisp morning led us along the River Deben from Woodbridge, past ancient mills and orchards heavy with apples. Blissful, until the drizzle kicked in mid-stride. Cue impromptu picnic under a massive oak, cheese rolls getting soggier by the minute. Hilarious, really—us two drowned rats, toasting with flask coffee to “Suffolk surprises.” The weather kept us flexible, turning epic hikes into cheeky local jaunts, like pottering around Orford Ness on the ferry when the paths got too swampy.

Looking back, those weather-driven detours made the trip. No grand adventures scripted in advance, just us, the paths, and the sky’s mood swings. Suffolk’s got that knack for turning a soggy hike into gold. If you’re after a walking break with character (and character-building rain), grab a cottage there pronto. I’m already plotting the next one—boots waterproofed this time, promise.