I’ll never forget the drive down to Porlock – that twisty Exmoor road had me gripping the wheel like my life depended on it, which it probably did after I missed the turning for the village and ended up in a muddy layby, arguing with the satnav while the kids whinged about needing the loo. We’d been buzzing with anticipation all morning, dreaming of that proper seaside escape in Somerset, but by the time we finally rolled into the village centre, sweatier than a vicar at a rave, I was questioning my life choices. One of the little ones had spilled crisps all over the boot, and I’d somehow managed to lock the car keys inside for a panicked five minutes before remembering the spare. Classic me – always turning a scenic drive into a sitcom episode.

But oh, pulling up to this picture-postcard thatched cottage just moments from Porlock’s heart? Instant magic. It’s the sort of place that looks like it’s stepped straight out of a postcard, all cosy and inviting with its traditional charm, and right on the doorstep of the coastline and Exmoor’s wild beauty. We tumbled out, bags flying everywhere, and the first impression hit like a warm hug – sash windows glinting in the late sun, that characterful fireplace promising evenings of pure bliss. I stood there for a second, bags at my feet, feeling a proper daft grin spread across my face. After the road rage, it was like the universe saying, “Alright, mate, you’ve earned this.”

Stepping inside was even better. The well-equipped kitchen had everything we needed to rustle up a feast – I whipped up some fish and chips from the local shop while the family explored. Then into the living room, where the dining table became our hub for chatter and laughs over supper. Flick on the gas fire in that impressive original fireplace, sink into the sofa, and pick a daft family film? Perfection. The kids were mesmerised, and I caught myself thinking, “Blimey, when did we last just sit and be together like this?” No screens, no rushing – just us, cosy as you like.

Next morning, we wandered the few steps to Porlock’s pebble beach, dodging waves and collecting shells, before a gentle hike into Exmoor’s rolling hills. Spotting wild ponies munching away felt like we’d stumbled into a David Attenborough doc. Lunch at the village pub – proper pasties and a pint – and we were hooked. Evenings blurred into more of the same: fire crackling, stories flowing, maybe a board game that ended in giggles and mild cheating accusations (looking at you, husband).

Looking back, that chaotic arrival was the best bit – it made the calm that followed feel earned. This spot’s ideal for families like ours, adventurous enough for hill walks but chilled for lazy beach days. If you’re after a Somerset getaway that resets the soul, hunt down a thatched gem like this. We’re already plotting a return – minus the satnav drama, hopefully.