I’ll never forget the drive down to North Devon – a proper faff from the start. We’d set off from Bristol nice and early, me navigating with the sat-nav and my other half at the wheel, but halfway through, the thing decided to throw a wobbly and reroute us down some winding B-road that felt like it hadn’t seen tarmac since the war. We ended up behind a tractor for what seemed like miles, laughing our heads off as the kids in the back started chanting “moo-ving slowly!” Still, by the time we crested that last hill, the anticipation was buzzing – Exmoor stretching out like a green blanket, and there it was, our barn conversion tucked away on the edge of the national park. First impressions? Blimey, it was even better than the photos. This glorious barn conversion, which was originally a Gin Gang – a former Horse Engine House to drive the main threshing barn – has been transformed into a luxury space to relax with family and friends. With its open-plan design, this offers everything you need to make fantastic memories. Set in the beautiful North Devon countryside, the barn is right on the edge of Exmoor National Park, and close to many local attractions including beautiful beaches, Exmoor Zoo (4 miles), Combe Martin Wildlife and Dinosaur Park (9.5 miles), the National Trust property of Arlington Court (9 miles) and Watermouth Castle (13.5 miles). We unloaded the car in a haze of excitement, the air thick with that fresh, peaty smell you only get out here.

From that moment, though, we did bugger all – and it was pure bliss. No grand plans, no ticking off lists of must-sees. The joy was in the sloth, the sheer luxury of slowing right down. Mornings kicked off with brekkie in the open-plan kitchen, me nursing a coffee while the sun filtered through the windows, everyone still in PJs. We’d mooch out to the garden, that perfect little pocket of paradise with views over the rolling fields. I’d flop into a lounger with a dog-eared paperback – some mindless crime thriller I’d been saving – and lose hours to the plot, only pausing to shoo away the odd curious sheep peering over the hedge. The kids? They’d potter about, building dens from sticks or just chasing butterflies, while we adults pretended to read but mostly dozed.

Afternoons blurred into the same lazy rhythm. A spot of lunch – pasties from the local farm shop, devoured on the patio – then back to the garden for more nothing. I remember one day, rain spitting down just enough to send us inside, we lit the fire (proper log burner, cosy as you like) and sprawled on the sofas with board games that never quite got finished. Laughter echoed round the open space, and for once, no one checked their phones. It was during one of those quiet spells, staring out at the misty moors, that I had a bit of a moment – you know, that gentle nudge of self-reflection? Here I was, always rushing about back home, and what for? This holiday reminded me that the best memories aren’t made chasing horizons; they’re forged in the stillness, with family close and the world on pause.

Evenings wrapped up with simple suppers – barbecues if the weather played ball, or hearty stews simmered on the hob. We’d sit out till dusk, stars popping overhead, chatting about nothing much. No trips to the zoo or beaches this time; we were too smitten with our idyll. Leaving felt like waking from a dream, but I’m already plotting a return. If you fancy proper downtime in Devon, find yourself a spot like this – it’ll recharge your soul like nothing else.