I’ll never forget the drive down to Hythe – what should’ve been a straightforward jaunt from London turned into a proper comedy of errors. Sat-nav decided to play silly buggers, rerouting us through every sleepy village in Kent, and just as we hit the A20, the heavens opened. Rain lashing the windscreen like it had a personal grudge, and my other half yelling about the picnic hamper sliding around in the boot. We arrived at this cracking four-bed apartment on Hythe’s pebble beach front in a right state – soaked to the skin, laughing like loons, and me fumbling with the keys while the kids piled out, desperate for a wee.

But oh, the first impressions? Absolute belter. Stepping inside, it was like the chaos melted away. This place is massive, all sleek and stylish with loads of space for our big group – think open-plan living that just invites you to flop down and unwind. Floor-to-ceiling windows framing that wide promenade right outside, pebbles crunching underfoot if you fancy a five-minute wander to breathe in the sea air. We dumped the bags, cracked open a bottle of fizz (slightly squished from the boot escapade), and just gawped at the view. Hythe’s got that proper seaside charm without the crowds – you can practically taste the salt on the breeze.

Next morning, still buzzing from the arrival drama, we strolled the promenade, dodging the odd jogger and letting the kids skim stones on the beach. Popped into town for a fry-up at one of those indie cafes on the high street – bacon butty perfection, with a flat white that hit the spot. The high street’s a gem, lined with quirky shops selling everything from fudge to vintage postcards; we mooched about, picking up silly souvenirs and pretending we weren’t knackered from the drive.

Fancy a bit of weird history? We wandered a mile up to St Leonard’s Church – that crypt ossuary is bonkers, walls stacked with skulls and bones like something out of a gothic novel. Gave us all a proper shiver, but in a good way, followed by ice creams to shake it off. Afternoon took us to Brockhill Country Park, just a short hop away – waymarked trails through woods and meadows, picnic spots where we finally unpacked that battered hamper. The kids ran wild, we sprawled on blankets, and I had one of those moments: sat there, mud on my trainers from the car park puddle we’d splashed through on arrival, thinking how these little mishaps make the best memories. Who needs smooth sailing when you’ve got sea views and a stylish pad to crash in?

Hythe’s got it all for a group getaway – beachfront ease, town buzz, and nature on tap. If you’re after that extra-special spot, this apartment’s the ticket. We left promising to return, minus the sat-nav tantrum next time.