I’ll never forget the drive down to Minehead last month – sat nav had me convinced we’d make it in three hours flat from Bristol, but no, a cheeky diversion round some roadworks on the M5 turned it into a proper faff. We ended up crawling along behind a tractor for what felt like miles, me humming along to the radio while the kids in the back moaned about needing the loo. Still, by the time we rolled into town, the anticipation was buzzing – I could already picture that sea air hitting us as we unloaded the bags.

Pulling up to this ground-floor cottage right on the seafront was an absolute treat. It’s the sort of place that sleeps four comfy in two bedrooms, with these cracking sea views straight across the Bristol Channel from the lounge. Beach just across the road, and the South West Coastal Path kicking off practically from the doorstep – first impressions? Spot on. We dumped the bags, cracked open a cuppa, and watched the waves rolling in, feeling like we’d struck gold.

But honestly, the real magic of the week wasn’t the obvious stuff – it was the hidden gems we stumbled on by pure accident, especially when we let ourselves get properly lost. Day two, we wandered off along the Coastal Path thinking we’d just do a quick loop, but somehow veered inland onto these winding lanes that don’t even show up on Google Maps properly. Ended up in this tucked-away spot near Dunster’s back trails – not the main village hub, but a little orchard café run by a local couple, serving the most divine scones with clotted cream that tasted like they’d been whipped up that morning. No tourists in sight, just us and a couple of walkers swapping stories about the weather. Proper serendipity.

Then there was the afternoon we took a wrong turn heading towards Blue Anchor Bay – instead of the main drag, we found ourselves on a pebbly cove that felt like our own private beach. Kids were in heaven, skimming stones and poking rock pools full of wiggly crabs, while I sat there with a book, waves lapping at my toes. Felt miles from anywhere, even though it was only a short hop from the cottage. Made me reflect a bit, you know? We’re always rushing about in life, aren’t we? Charging from A to B like it’s a race. But getting lost like that, with no signal half the time, forced us to slow down, breathe it all in. Bit of a wake-up call for this busy mum.

Another belter was when we parked up near the path’s edge one morning and followed a faint track that looked promising. Led us to this overgrown picnic spot overlooking the channel, with benches that must’ve been there since the war, hidden by brambles. We unpacked our pasties from the Minehead bakery round the corner – flaky, proper job – and just soaked it up. No crowds, no queues, just the sea mist rolling in and a buzzard circling overhead. Laughed our heads off when the youngest slipped on some mud chasing a butterfly, but that’s holidays for you.

By the end of the week, we’d clocked more of these off-the-beaten-path finds than any guidebook could’ve planned – a secret beachcombers’ nook under the cliffs, a wildflower meadow path that looped back unexpectedly to the cottage. Made the whole stay feel like our little adventure. If you’re after that proper seaside escape where wandering pays off big time, you can’t go wrong round here. We’re already plotting a return.