I’ll never forget the drive down to Teignmouth last month – we’d packed the car with enough crisps and tea bags to last a siege, but about 20 miles from Exeter, the sat-nav decided to throw a wobbly and sent us on a detour through some winding lanes that looked like they hadn’t seen daylight since the war. We ended up in a muddy layby arguing over whose fault it was (mine, obviously, for trusting the thing), but honestly, it was the perfect start to what turned into a holiday full of happy accidents. By the time we rolled into town, hearts racing a bit from the near-miss, the anticipation was buzzing – would this seaside spot deliver the goods?

Pulling up to our fourth-floor luxury penthouse in the Grand Banks development, we were gobsmacked. It’s this sleek, contemporary two-bedroom apartment with a massive south-facing balcony that’s basically a front-row seat to the estuary and sea – panoramic views across the River Teign to Shaldon that had us grinning like idiots before we’d even unpacked. First impressions? Spot on. We cracked open a bottle of fizz on that balcony as the sun dipped low, watching fishing boats bob about. Pure bliss.

But the real magic happened when we ditched the guidebook and let ourselves get properly lost. Teignmouth’s got its touristy bits, sure, but we stumbled on the hidden gems by accident, and they made the trip. One morning, fancying a wander, we veered off the seafront path behind the Pavilion and found ourselves on a secret stretch of the Teignmouth-Torquay railway walk – an old track turned footpath, overgrown and peaceful, with the river sparkling below and not a soul in sight. We picnicked there with pasties from a hole-in-the-wall bakery we’d spotted by chance on Teign Street, laughing as a cheeky squirrel tried to nick our sausage roll.

Another day, we took a wrong turn from the back lanes near the Polygon (that artsy bit tucked away from the main drag) and discovered Labrador Bay. It’s this wild, National Trust nature reserve just a short clifftop hike from town – heather-strewn paths, hidden coves, and seals popping up in the waves like they were auditioning for a wildlife doc. We got so carried away chasing butterflies we missed lunch, but who cares? Sat on a rock overlooking the sea, munching foraged blackberries, I had one of those gentle moments of reflection: life’s too short for sticking to the plan. Why plough through the crowds when these off-the-beaten-path spots feel like they’re yours alone?

Evenings were for ambling back via the lesser-known backshore paths along the estuary, where we’d find tucked-away benches perfect for watching the light fade over Shaldon. One night, we even chanced upon a tiny, family-run ice cream van in a car park you’d never spot unless you were lost – proper 99s with raspberry ripple that tasted like summer in a cone. Getting deliberately disoriented turned out to be the best bit; it peeled back Teignmouth’s layers to reveal these quiet, magical corners that no app could’ve predicted.

Heading home, we were already plotting the next mishap-driven getaway. Devon’s got a knack for turning wrong turns into the best stories – who needs a map anyway?