I’ll never forget the drive down to Hope Cove – sat nav insisting we take some winding back lane that turned into a proper adventure when we got a flat tyre halfway through a hedge-lined single track. There I was, in the pouring rain, faffing about with the spare while the dogs yapped from the boot, thinking, ‘Welcome to Devon holidays, eh?’ But we made it, just as the clouds cracked open a bit, and pulling up to this cracking luxury dog-friendly coastal apartment felt like striking gold. Direct access onto the coast path? Balcony with those jaw-dropping ocean views stretching out forever? First impressions were spot on – it screamed perfect base for walks, with the sea crashing below and our two mutts already nosing at the sliding doors.

We’d been buzzing about those coastal hikes from the off, you know, the sort that make you feel alive with salty wind in your hair. Day one, weather was playing nice – bright blue skies, not too hot – so we cracked on with the coast path straight from the door. It’s pure magic round here, clifftops rolling down to hidden coves like Horseley Warren, where the dogs went bonkers chasing waves on the beach below. That path dips and climbs just right, with gulls wheeling overhead and the odd seal popping up offshore. We wandered for hours, meandering towards Bolberry Down, stopping for pasties from the village shop (proper job, they were). Bliss.

But oh, British weather – it’s got a cheeky way of keeping you on your toes. Next morning, woke to that classic Devon mizzle turning into a full-on downpour. Plans for a long haul to the lighthouse? Scrubbed. Instead, we pivoted to a cheeky loop around the cove itself, hoods up, laughing as the rain pelted us. The path’s so close, we just stepped out and embraced it – puddles splashing under paws, everything misty and dramatic. The dogs didn’t care; they barrelled through like it was summer. Back at the apartment, rinsed off in the outdoor shower (handy for sandy humans and hounds alike), then hunkered down with tea on the balcony, watching the storm roll out over the sea. Proper hygge moment.

By afternoon, it cleared just enough for another go – this time a gentle stroll along the cliffs to Inner Hope, peering into rock pools and spotting wading birds. The weather flipped again to that golden light you get post-rain, turning the whole coast into a painting. We timed it right for low tide, scrambling down to a pebbly beach for a breather. Those views from up high, though – endless ocean, rugged edges – they make you stop and think. Here I was, mid-40s, still getting drenched on dog walks like a kid, realising how these simple jaunts recharge the batteries more than any fancy spa.

A couple more days of this weather-whiplash lark: misty mornings morphing into sunny spells, forcing shorter, sweeter hikes but never dull. One epic clifftop ramble had us dodging sudden squalls, but the payoff was rainbow after rainbow. Private parking meant no faffing with cars, and after a day’s tramping, collapsing into that king-sized bed was heaven. The dogs snored contentedly, worn out from their free coastal romps. Honestly, it was the perfect mix of adventure and chill – weather dictating the pace, but every path a winner. If you fancy walks with a side of unpredictability, this spot’s a gem. We’re already plotting a return.