I’ll never forget the drive down to Instow – we’d packed the car to bursting with cool bags, board games and enough snacks to feed a small army, only for the sat-nav to chuck us into a cheeky detour through some narrow lanes that felt like they hadn’t seen daylight since the war. There I was, white-knuckling the wheel while my other half dozed in the passenger seat, muttering about how we should’ve left earlier. A classic us moment, really – always rushing into holidays like we’re off to conquer Everest instead of a quiet Devon break.

But oh, the relief when we finally pulled up. This place was a belter from the off: a sleek, contemporary holiday home just begging for us to kick back. Perfect for two of us craving a cosy couple’s escape, though it sleeps eight so we had the run of the place. The anticipation had been building all journey – visions of hot tub bubbles and beach strolls – and it didn’t disappoint. Stepping inside, we were hit with that fresh, welcoming vibe: plush lounge with a massive media wall for binge-watching, Smart TVs in every bedroom (handy for lazy lie-ins), and a games room with a bar that screamed “grown-up fun without the kids”. Outside, the garden spaces were stunning, and that private hot tub? Pure bliss waiting to happen.

First impressions sealed it – we dumped the bags and cracked open a bottle of fizz on the patio, toes in the grass, listening to the distant waves. Instow’s sandy beach is only half a mile away, so we wandered down that first afternoon, paddling in the cool estuary water, dodging the odd jellyfish like pros. It’s that proper North Devon charm: wide-open skies, dog-walkers everywhere, and not a hint of aggro. We even hopped the little ferry over to Appledore one sunny morning – ten minutes across the water to its quaint high street, where we grabbed cream teas that were more cream than scone. Laugh-out-loud messy, with crumbs down our tops, but isn’t that the joy of cottage life?

Evenings were our favourite. We’d fire up the hot tub as the sun dipped, bubbles fizzing away the week’s stresses, then retreat to the games room for a bit of pool or darts – me hopeless as ever, blaming the wine. Simple pleasures ruled: morning coffees gazing out at the garden, lazy barbecues with local sausages from the village shop, and those quiet beach walks at dusk where you can hear your own thoughts. There was this one hilarious mishap when I slipped on the garden path after too much fizz, landing flat on my bum – cue much giggling and my other half declaring me “the clumsiest romantic in Devon”. We howled about it over dinner, feeling properly alive.

Looking back, it was a gentle nudge to slow down. Life’s chaos back home had us knackered, but here, amid the hot tub steam and beach breezes, we rediscovered us – no schedules, just each other and the rhythm of the tides. If you’re after a relaxed family-couple vibe in North Devon, this spot nails it. We’re already plotting a return.