I’ll never forget the drive down to Devon – rain lashing the windscreen like it had a personal grudge, and then, just past Exeter, my sat-nav decided to throw a wobbly and sent me looping down a muddy lane that looked more like a cow path. Heart in my mouth, I reversed out of what felt like a dead end, only to spot a cheeky fox scarpering into the hedge. Typical me, turning a straightforward journey into an unplanned adventure, but by the time I pulled up to this cosy little chapel-turned-holiday-cottage, I was buzzing with that proper holiday anticipation. The place was an absolute gem – quirky, tucked away in its own quiet nook near Crediton, with a welcoming vibe that screamed 'relax and forget the world'.

First impressions? Spot on. Stepping inside felt like stumbling into someone’s secret hideaway – all character and charm, perfect for unwinding after that daft drive. But the real magic kicked off when I ditched the usual tourist traps and let curiosity lead the way. Devon’s got those hidden corners that don’t make the guidebooks, and I found them by happily getting lost on the back lanes.

One afternoon, aiming for a vague walk, I veered off down a narrow track signposted to nowhere much and ended up at this tucked-away picnic spot by a burbling stream. No crowds, just me, a thermos of tea, and a family of ducks eyeing me suspiciously. It was one of those moments where you think, 'Why don’t I do this more often?' – a gentle nudge that life’s too short for sticking to the script.

The next day, another wrong turn (I’m sensing a theme) dropped me at a forgotten little orchard path winding up to a viewpoint over the Yeo Valley. Nobody else around, just rolling fields and that fresh Devon air that clears your head. I picnicked there with local cheese and cider from a farm shop I’d blundered into earlier – proper scrumpy, mind, the kind that sneaks up on you. Laughing at myself for packing posh nibbles that went uneaten, I sprawled out watching clouds drift by. Pure bliss.

Wandering further, I discovered a secluded woodland trail near the old railway line – wild garlic everywhere in spring, bluebells nodding in the breeze. It’s these off-the-beaten-path finds that make Devon special; you feel like an explorer uncovering treasures meant just for you. One evening, a sunset stroll led to a hidden bench overlooking a misty hollow, where I sat reflecting on how getting lost isn’t failing – it’s the best way to find what matters. Back at the cottage, cosy with a book and the sound of owls starting up, I reckoned this was the holiday I didn’t know I needed. If you’re after proper escape, swap the maps for mishaps – Devon’s secrets are worth the detour.