I’ll never forget the drive down to North Devon last month – we’d packed the car with enough crisps and thermos flasks to see us through a siege, only for the sat-nav to chuck a wobbly just past Barnstaple. It insisted on a scenic detour through some narrow lanes that had me gripping the wheel like it was a lifeline, with hedges brushing the mirrors and a herd of cows eyeing us suspiciously. Half an hour late and mildly frazzled, we finally rolled into that gorgeous coastal village, hearts lifting at the sight of the estuary sparkling under a rare blue sky. What a first impression – the air was crisp with that salty tang, and there it was, our home for the week: this lovely seaside cottage that’s been given a new lease on life by its owners. Original character features and boutique styling sit side by side to offer a tastefully designed luxury holiday home in one of Devon’s prettiest coastal villages.

We couldn’t wait to kick off our boots and explore on foot, lacing up our wellies for the network of paths right on the doorstep. Day one dawned bright, so we headed out along the Appledore quay, the sun bouncing off the water as fishing boats bobbed gently. It felt like stepping into a postcard – we wandered the pebble beach, dodging waves that nipped at our toes, then climbed the cliffs for views that stretched to the lighthouse at Bull Point. My other half was snapping photos like a pro, while I puffed along pretending I wasn’t secretly competing with the seagulls for stamina.

But oh, the British weather – it’s got a cheeky way of keeping you on your toes. By day two, the sky turned moody, fat clouds rolling in from the Atlantic like uninvited guests. Our planned long hike along the North Devon Coast Path got shortened to a blustery scramble around the village headland, rain lashing sideways as we huddled under a shared brolly, laughing at how our fancy waterproofs were living up to the hype (mine wasn’t, naturally). We ducked into a tiny tearoom for steaming mugs of tea and scones, plotting our next move. The weather forced us to improvise brilliantly – instead of a full coastal trek, we discovered hidden paths through the dunes near the Northam Burrows, where the wind whipped up sand devils and we spotted seals lounging on the rocks. It was wild, exhilarating, and oddly liberating.

One afternoon, as the rain eased to a misty drizzle, we ventured out for a gentle loop around the estuary, mud squelching underfoot and rainbows teasing us from afar. I had a proper moment of reflection there, leaning on a gate with the cottage in sight – isn’t it funny how a bit of horizontal weather makes you appreciate the simple joy of a warm welcome waiting? No epic treks needed; just us, the paths, and whatever the skies threw at us. By week’s end, we’d racked up miles of muddy adventures, faces windswept and grinning. North Devon’s walks are pure magic, rain or shine – we’re already plotting a return, sat-nav glitches be dashed.