I’ll never forget the drive down to Porthleven – what should’ve been a straightforward jaunt from Truro turned into a comedy of errors. Satnav decided to play silly buggers, rerouting us through narrow lanes that made our little hatchback feel like a tank in a doll’s house. Then, just as we crested the hill with the sea sparkling ahead, we hit a proper Cornish downpour. Wipers on full whack, kids in the back moaning about soggy crisps, and me white-knuckling the wheel while my other half helpfully suggested we’d have been better off taking the train. By the time we rolled into the village, we were frazzled, damp, and questioning our life choices.

But oh, pulling up to that waterfront apartment? Instant mood-lifter. We’d been buzzing with anticipation all week – visions of harbour views and lazy beach days – and it didn’t disappoint. Right on the edge of the scenic harbour, door practically opens onto the bobbing boats and salty air. It’s this airy spot, dead cosy for our family of four, with big windows flooding the place with light. First impressions? Bloody brilliant – or rather, absolutely spot-on. We dumped the bags, cracked open a brew, and just gawped at the view. The rain had buggered off, leaving everything glistening like a postcard.

No time to unpack properly before we were out exploring. Strolled straight into Porthleven’s quirky independent shops – picked up some fudge from a wee place that smelled like heaven, and a hand-thrown mug that’s now my favourite. The cafés were calling too; we grabbed pasties from a spot overlooking the harbour, flaky and steaming, wolfed down on a bench while watching fishermen sort their catch. Proper local vibe, everyone nodding hello like we were regulars.

By afternoon, we legged it to Porthleven Beach, just half a mile up the path – trainers sinking in the sand, kids whooping as they splashed in the shallows. Sea swimming? Bracing doesn’t cover it; I dipped a toe and yelped like a loon, but they were in up to their necks, rock pooling for crabs and giggling at the waves. Felt like proper holiday magic after our chaotic arrival. We even joined a bit of the South West Coast Path, puffing along the cliffs with gulls wheeling overhead – stunning views without overdoing it.

Sitting there later, feet up in the apartment as the sun dipped behind the harbour, I had one of those gentle moments. You know, reflecting on how a rubbish journey can flip into gold dust? We’d arrived in a flap, but this place sorted us right out – reminded me holidays aren’t about perfection, but those unexpected joys. Two miles’ wander to Loe Pool the next day sealed it: spotting herons and buzzing bees in the wooded trails, pure bliss. If you’re after a cracking Cornish getaway, this is the ticket. Can’t wait to go back.