I’ll never forget the drive down to Somerset – we’d been buzzing with excitement about our little getaway, me and the wife, dreaming of cosy cottage nights and proper countryside air. But typical us, about halfway there, the sat-nav decided to throw a wobbly and sent us on a detour through some winding lanes that felt like they hadn’t seen a car since the war. We ended up at a dead end with nothing but a herd of curious cows staring us down, and I swear one of them mooed in amusement. Laughing our heads off, we eventually got back on track, arriving just as the sun dipped low over the Quantocks, painting everything golden. First impressions? Bloody brilliant – or rather, absolutely spot on. This place was everything we’d hoped: history, character and luxury rolled into one fantastic holiday home, tucked away on the edge of the Quantock Hills in beautiful grounds surrounded by meadows, woodlands and gardens. Perfect for us two, even if it’s geared for bigger groups – meant we had the run of the place.

Pulling up, the anticipation melted into pure joy. The house welcomed us with open arms, all warm and inviting, and stepping inside felt like slipping into a favourite jumper. We dumped the bags and cracked open a bottle of local cider straight away – none of that rushing about. First morning, we laced up our boots and headed straight out the door for a gentle hike along the trails that weave right from the doorstep. The Quantocks are magic for walkers like us; we ambled up to some summits with those panoramic views that make you stop and just breathe. The air’s so fresh, it’s like a reset button for the soul. Lunch was a simple picnic in a meadow, cheese sarnies and flask tea, watching butterflies flit about – pure bliss, no faffing with fancy restaurants.

Afternoons were for pottering in the gardens or a short cycle through the nearby woodlands. Ramscombe Great Wood is only five miles off, and we rambled there one day, getting lost in the trees and emerging with muddy boots and daft grins. Exmoor National Park’s just five miles the other way, so we nipped over for a mooch across the heather moors, spotting wild ponies grazing like they owned the place. Felt timeless, you know? Evenings back at the cottage were the real highlight – chaotic in the best way. I tried my hand at a roast, but somehow the spuds ended up more charcoal than crisp, and we spent half the night salvaging it with giggles and takeaways. Cottage life, eh? It’s all about those simple pleasures: board games by the fire, stargazing from the garden, waking to birdsong instead of traffic.

Don’t get me wrong, there were moments of gentle reflection too. Sat on the porch one sunset, cuppa in hand, I thought about how we never do this enough – just us, no phones pinging, no schedules. Somerset’s got this way of slowing you right down, reminding you what matters. Beaches were calling too; Doniford and Kilve are both within eight miles, so we had a lazy day on the sand, building pathetic sandcastles and paddling in the sea like kids. No need for Taunton or Minehead’s shops – we were quite happy with our rural bubble.

Honestly, it was the perfect relaxed break for a couple craving that family holiday vibe without the actual tribe. If you’re after uncomplicated joy and a bit of chaos, this is your spot. We’re already plotting a return.