I’ll never forget the drive down to the New Forest – sat nav insisting we take some winding B-road that turned into a single-track adventure, complete with a flock of those cheeky New Forest ponies blocking the way. One particularly stubborn chap just stared us down until I beeped the horn (gently, mind), and off they trotted. Typical, I thought, laughing as we finally emerged, hearts racing a bit from the near-miss. But as we pulled up to this friendly first-floor apartment retreat, nestled in scenic grounds right beside the River Avon, all that faded. From the moment we stepped out, it felt like the perfect spot to properly switch off.

The place was spot on for us – three cosy bedrooms for our family of six, and that generous open-plan living space downstairs where we could all flop together. First impressions? Brilliant. The views over the grounds were lush and green, with the river murmuring away like a gentle lullaby. We’d been buzzing with anticipation on the journey, imagining epic hikes into the National Park just 350 metres away, but honestly, who needs grand plans when paradise is right here? Unpacking took about five minutes, then it was straight to the kettle for a proper cuppa, windows flung open to let in that fresh forest air.

Our days melted into this blissful rhythm of doing very little, and it was pure joy. Mornings kicked off lazy in the garden – well, the shared grounds really, with their sweeping lawns and that river view begging you to linger. I’d claim a sunny bench with a dog-eared paperback, feet up, while the kids (and husband) scattered cushions and started a desultory game of cards that inevitably turned into storytelling sessions. No rush, no schedules – just the rustle of leaves and the occasional pony sighting in the distance, ambling past like they owned the place (which they sort of do).

Afternoons were for slowing right down. We’d wander the short path to the riverbank for a spot of gentle people-watching – anglers casting lines, maybe a family on hired bikes pedalling by – but mostly we stayed put, brewing more tea and firing up the slow cooker for whatever we fancied. I lost myself in a thriller one day, only surfacing when the sun dipped low, painting everything golden. There’s something magic about that New Forest hush; it sneaks up on you, makes you realise how wired we all are back home. I caught myself reflecting one evening, sat there with a GandT in hand, thinking: when did I last just *be*? No emails, no to-do lists – just this quiet contentment wrapping around us like a warm blanket.

Evenings wrapped up with board games in the living space, laughter echoing as someone inevitably cheated at Scrabble. No big outings beyond a gentle stroll to spot those roaming ponies up close – they’re everywhere, aren’t they? – or a lazy gaze towards the park’s edge. We didn’t bother with fishing or golf; the joy was in the stillness, recharging amid nature’s whisper. Leaving felt bittersweet, but I’m already plotting a return. If you’re after a holiday that’s all about savouring the slow life, this is it. Proper restorative stuff.