I’ll never forget the drive down to Bath – we’d packed the car to bursting with kids’ toys, snacks, and enough board games to last a siege, only for the satnav to chuck a wobbly just outside Bristol. It rerouted us through some cheeky country lanes, turning what should’ve been a smooth two hours into a comedy of errors with the little ones chanting “Are we there yet?” every five minutes. But as we finally crested that hill into Bath, the city unfolded like a picture postcard, all honeyed rooftops and that unmistakable Georgian elegance. My heart did a little flip – we were here for a proper family unwind.

Pulling into the serene grounds of this modern redevelopment felt like stumbling on a hidden gem. Tucked away yet slap bang in the city centre, our one-bedroom apartment was a stylish bolthole with a tranquil courtyard garden that screamed “relax, you’ve arrived.” Contemporary vibes inside, all clean lines and cosy nooks, but with that welcoming hug of a place you’d happily call home for a week. First impressions? Spot on. The kids dashed straight out to poke around the garden while I flopped on the sofa, exhaling the stresses of everyday life. Anticipation bubbled up – Roman Baths tomorrow, maybe?

We settled into that delicious cottage life chaos right away. Mornings kicked off with brekkie in the sun-dappled courtyard, the bairns squabbling over the last croissant while I sipped coffee and watched the world go by. No rigid plans, just pottering about. A short stroll took us to the Roman Baths, where the littlest one was mesmerised by the steaming pools, declaring it “magic wizard water.” We wandered the Abbey next, her tiny hand in mine, marvelling at the soaring ceilings – pure awe, no queues in sight on a weekday.

Afternoons were for simple pleasures: a lazy picnic by the Avon, chucking stones and spotting ducks, or ambling to Pulteney Bridge for ice creams that dripped faster than the rain we dodged later. Back at the apartment, chaos reigned supreme – epic Lego builds on the living room floor, me tripping over Minions while rustling up pasta in the neat little kitchen. One evening, the other half and I snuck a glass of wine in the garden after bedtime shenanigans, listening to the faint hum of Bath beyond the walls. Blissful sanctuary, that’s what it was.

There was a quiet moment of self-reflection one drizzly afternoon, curled up with a book while the kids napped. Staring out at the courtyard, I realised how these breaks recharge the soul – no emails, no rush, just us lot making memories amid the joyful mess. Bath’s magic isn’t just the landmarks; it’s these pockets of peace amid family mayhem. We left with full hearts, already plotting the next getaway. If you’re after a relaxed family escape, this spot’s a winner – pure, unfiltered joy.