I’ll never forget the drive to our holiday spot in Lynton – it was one of those classic British road trips that starts with high hopes and ends in a mild panic. We’d piled into the car from Bristol early doors, kids buzzing with excitement about the North Devon coast, me navigating via a dodgy phone signal, and my other half at the wheel. About halfway, just past Barnstaple, disaster struck: a sneaky pothole sent us veering into a layby with a flat tyre. Cue 45 minutes of swearing-free faffing (well, mostly), me holding the jack while the kids chanted “Are we there yet?” like a tiny Greek chorus. By the time we’d sorted it – thanks to a passing farmer with a pump – we were all a bit frazzled, covered in Devon mud, and starving. Still, that anticipation built; Lynmouth Bay was calling, and we were determined not to let a puncture ruin the vibe.

Finally rolling into Lynton as the sun dipped low, we spotted the property straight away – a cosy two-bed apartment perched with cracking views straight out over Lynmouth Bay. Full of charm, it’s the perfect base for families wanting to explore the North Devon coast in style. We tumbled out, bags everywhere, only to realise I’d left the front door key in the ignition (classic me). A quick call to the owners, a sheepish dash back to the car, and we were in. First impressions? Blimey, it was a belter. The place felt like a warm hug after our chaos – light and airy, with those bay views hitting you right from the lounge window. Seals bobbing about down there, waves crashing gently; it was like stepping into a postcard, minus the filter.

We dumped our stuff and cracked open some fish and chips from the village (proper proper ones, none of that soggy batter nonsense), scoffing them on the balcony as the light faded. The kids were straight out on the balcony, pointing at everything, while I sat there reflecting on how I always overpack – three swimsuits for a week? Who was I kidding with this non-stop rain reputation? But honestly, that little mishap on the road made the arrival sweeter; it reminded me holidays aren’t about perfection, they’re about those daft moments that turn into stories.

Next morning, we couldn’t resist the big draw: the Lynton and Lynmouth Cliff Railway. It’s this water-powered gem chugging between the villages – dead unique, and the kids adored it, eyes wide as we whooshed down the cliff. We pottered along the coastal path after, spotting smugglers’ coves and ice cream vans, before heading back for a lazy afternoon gazing at the bay. That flat tyre? Forgotten already. If you’re after a family bolt-hole with charm, views, and zero pretension, this is it. We’re already plotting a return – minus the potholes, hopefully.