I’ll never forget the drive down to our holiday spot near Liskeard – the satnav was having a right old paddy, insisting we take a narrow lane that turned into a muddy track after a sudden downpour. We ended up stuck behind a tractor for what felt like hours, laughing about how we’d probably end up sleeping in the car. But once we shook off the frustration and finally arrived, Cornwall worked its magic straight away. Pulling up to this cracking barn conversion just outside the village, with its shared hot tub peeking out by the meadow garden, I felt that proper holiday buzz kick in. It’s semi-detached, reverse-level setup meant we climbed an external iron staircase to the open-plan living area – all cosy sofas, a quirky dining table, and a smart kitchen that made me feel like a telly chef. Downstairs, two bedrooms with en-suites for the four of us. Spot on.

What turned this trip into pure gold, though, wasn’t the usual tourist traps – it was stumbling on those hidden gems by pure accident, especially when we kept getting gloriously lost on the back roads. First morning, we fancied a wander and missed the turn for Dobwalls, ending up on a winding path that spat us out at a tucked-away spot by Herodsfoot. It’s this lush valley with a babbling stream and old mine workings you’d never spot on a map. We picnicked on pasties from the local bakery (cheesy ones, naturally), watching dippers flit about like feisty little acrobats. No crowds, just us and the wildlife – felt like we’d nicked a secret from the locals.

Later that day, aiming for a beach, we took a “shortcut” that led us deep into the woods near Treworrick. Pure fluke, but we found this abandoned quarry turned wild swimming hole, fringed with ferns and sunlight dappling the water. The kids dared each other in (brr, fresh!), while I paddled like a sensible grown-up. It was one of those moments where you think, “Why bother with car parks and chip queues when this is on your doorstep?”

We kept the theme going, veering off near Crow’s Nest for a sneaky path to a meadow overlooking the River West Looe. Sunflowers nodding in the breeze, butterflies everywhere – accidental heaven. Even a wrong turn towards the boarding kennels here (handy for dog-mad mates) dropped us at a forgotten orchard path bursting with blackberries. We picked enough for crumble that night, bellies full and hands purple.

Looking back, getting lost was the best bit. In the rush of life, I’m always head-down, plotting the efficient route. This holiday forced me to loosen up, embrace the detour – and rediscover that kid-like thrill of the unknown. Back home now, I’m already plotting the next “mishap” in Cornwall’s secret corners. If you’re after proper escape, ditch the main roads and let the lanes lead you. You won’t regret it.