I’ll never forget the drive down to Bath – we’d packed the car to the brim with kids’ toys, snacks, and enough changes of clothes to survive a siege, only for the sat-nav to chuck us into a cheeky diversion through some winding lanes just outside the city. Picture this: me white-knuckling the wheel while our five-year-old pipes up from the back, “Are we there yet? I need a wee!” We pulled over at a layby for an emergency pit stop, laughing at the absurdity as rain spotted the windscreen. But honestly, that little mishap just amped up the anticipation – Bath was calling, and we couldn’t wait to ditch the M4 madness for some proper family downtime.

Pulling up to our one-bedroom apartment in the redeveloped St Catherine’s Hospital felt like stumbling into a hidden gem. Tucked right in the heart of it all, just behind the Thermae Spa and a stone’s throw from the Roman Baths, it was love at first sight. The place opens onto this gorgeous original courtyard garden, all leafy and serene – the kind of spot that makes you breathe a sigh of relief after the road. It’s cosy inside, perfect for us lot squeezing in: a comfy double bed for me and the wife, a sofa bed for the kids, and a kitchenette stocked with everything to whip up brekkie. First impressions? Spot on. We dumped the bags and immediately cracked open a picnic in the garden, watching pigeons strut about like they owned the place.

Bath’s got that magical pull for a relaxed family break – no grand plans, just simple pleasures and the joyful chaos of cottage life. Mornings started with toast and marmalade round the little table, then a gentle wander to the Roman Baths, where the kids gawped at the steaming pools and I pretended to know all the history (spoiler: I Googled it later). We’d pop over to the Thermae for a family splash in the open-air pool – nothing beats floating there at dusk, steam rising, with the city lights twinkling. Lunch was always a picnic by the Abbey, dodging tourists while the little ones chased each other round Pulteney Bridge, giggling over ice creams from the stall.

Afternoons melted into lazy strolls along the Avon – we hired punts one day, me clumsily poling us into the bank while everyone howled with laughter. Back at the apartment, it was pure unwind mode: kids building dens in the courtyard, us sipping tea on the bench, watching the world go by. There was this one evening of gentle chaos when dinner turned into a flour-fight pizza-making session – flour everywhere, but who cares? It’s those messy moments that stick.

Reflecting on it now, as we motored home with sandy feet and full hearts, I realised it’s the small stuff that recharges you. No five-star fuss, just us, a peaceful courtyard hideaway, and Bath’s gentle charm. If you’re after a family escape that’s equal parts history, hilarity, and heartfelt simplicity, this is your spot. We’re already plotting a return.