I finally made it to Cornwall after what felt like the world's slowest drive down from Bristol. We'd set off full of beans, playlist blasting, but about an hour in, I managed to take a wrong turn onto one of those tiny lanes that Cornwall loves so much – you know the ones, barely wide enough for a pram, with hedges swallowing the car mirrors. We ended up doing a 20-point turn in a passing place, laughing our heads off as a local farmer gave us a cheery wave from his tractor. By the time we chugged into Carbis Bay, I was buzzing with that proper holiday anticipation, wondering if the sea air would hit us like a tonic.

Pulling up to this luxury second-floor apartment, wow, what a view! From St Ives to Godrevy Lighthouse, the panoramic sweep from the place is breath-taking. Perched on the cliff overlooking Carbis Bay Beach with its blue flag waters, it's in a prime spot. Sleeping four in two comfy bedrooms, dead close to the beach, the scenic railway, and the SW Coast Path, it's spot on for a family do. That wall of bay windows in the open-plan living space – kitchen, dining, sitting area all in one – means the whole of St Ives Bay fills your eyeline. First impressions? Blown away. We dumped the bags and just stood there, jaws on the floor, as the sun dipped towards the lighthouse.

But honestly, the joy of the whole trip was doing sod all. After all that faffing about in daily life, this was our chance to properly slow down. Mornings kicked off with lazy brews on the balcony, feet up, watching surfers dot the bay like seals bobbing about. No rush, no plans – just the gentle whoosh of waves and the odd train chuffing along the line below, like a toy set come to life. We'd wander down to the beach for a paddle in that crisp Atlantic, maybe pick up pasties from the little shop nearby, then flop back for the afternoon.

The garden area was a dream for loafing – a shared terrace with loungers begging you to crack open a book and forget the world. I devoured a battered paperback mystery, losing hours as the pages turned slower than the tide. The kids sprawled out too, building pebble castles in their minds while the gulls squawked overhead. Evenings were pure bliss: barbecues with the doors flung wide, sea breeze fluttering the curtains, plates of fresh mackerel from St Ives market lingering on the table. We'd play cards till our eyes drooped, the lighthouse beam sweeping the room like a lazy nightlight.

Looking back, I had a proper moment of self-reflection one dusky evening, sat there with a GandT, toes wriggling in the grass. Life's always go-go-go, innit? Chasing deadlines, scrolling endlessly. Here, doing nothing felt like the biggest achievement. No epic hikes or Instagram hunts – just breathing deep, letting Cornwall's rhythm sink in. We left feeling recharged, not knackered. If you're after that rare treat of switching off completely, this corner of Carbis Bay is pure magic. Can't wait to go back and do even less.