I’ll never forget the drive down to our holiday spot in rural Devon – it was mid-summer, the kind of July where the sun’s relentless and you’re cursing your decision to pack heavy coats just in case. We’d piled into the car from Bristol, kids in the back squabbling over crisps, and about halfway there, disaster struck: a rogue tractor decided to hog the narrow lanes near Crediton, turning our two-hour journey into a three-hour crawl. I was sweating bullets, fiddling with the sat nav, half-convinced we’d end up in a hedge. But as we finally turned off the road, anticipation bubbled up – golden fields stretching out, bees buzzing in the hedgerows, and that proper Devon heat haze making everything shimmer like a postcard.

Pulling up to the place was pure magic, right from the first glimpse. It’s this grand old manor tucked into three acres of lush gardens, all blooming with summer roses and lavender that hit you with their scent before you even park. The kind of spot that screams refined comfort, with six big bedrooms (four en-suite, thank goodness for family peace) spread over its sprawling layout – perfect for our multigenerational crew of 14, from nan to the grandkids. We tumbled out, bags everywhere, and the first impressions? Spot on. That bespoke farmhouse kitchen welcomed us with cool flagstones underfoot, and the terrace already set for alfresco brekkie under a sky so blue it hurt.

The summer season shaped every minute – it was all about soaking up that long, lazy daylight. Mornings kicked off with bacon sarnies on the terrace, steam rising off fresh coffee as we watched butterflies dance over the gardens. The heated pool was a godsend in the sticky afternoons; we’d splash about for hours, the water warm as a bath, surrounded by birdsong and not a cloud in sight. Come evening, as the sun dipped low and painted everything honey-gold, we’d fire up the alfresco dining for 20 – though we only needed half the space – grilling local Devon sausages and slurping rosé till the kids conked out. One night, under a canopy of stars you rarely see up north, we piled into the hot tub, steam mingling with the balmy air, laughing about nothing. The sauna and gym got a look-in too, but mostly we were outdoorsy wrecks.

We made the most of the tennis court, all-weather and shaded by ancient trees heavy with leaves – doubles matches that ended in giggles more than winners, with the summer breeze keeping us going till dusk. Inside, the cinema room was a rainy-day hero (we got one proper downpour, classic Devon), but mostly it was the reading nooks and heated gazebo with its telly where we’d flop, recovering from cream teas at nearby spots or gentle walks to the local pub. A highlight was a family barbecue that stretched into midnight, fireflies flickering – or were they glow-worms? – and the pool table turning competitive in the bar area.

Looking back, that summer warmth wrapped us in this bubble of togetherness, slowing time right down. I caught myself one quiet afternoon by the pool, kids shrieking nearby, thinking how rare it is to feel so utterly content. No rushing, just us, the gardens bursting with life, and Devon at its sun-drenched best. If you’re chasing that same vibe, book it for summer – you won’t regret a second.