We’d been on the road since half past seven, the M5 stretching out like it had a personal grudge against us, and by the time we finally turned off towards the coast my patience was hanging by a thread. Somewhere near Bridgwater the satnav decided we fancied a scenic detour through three identical roundabouts, so naturally I ignored the first sensible turning and ended up reversing out of a farm track with a trailer of very unimpressed sheep watching on. By the time we pulled up at The Stables I was half expecting the cottage to have packed its bags and left.

It hadn’t, of course. Tucked just back from the dunes, the old stone building looked exactly like the photos—low, solid, and somehow already half-asleep in the late afternoon sun. The key was waiting in one of those fake-stone hidey-holes by the door, which felt wonderfully old-fashioned until I dropped it twice trying to work the stiff lock. Inside, everything smelled faintly of woodsmoke and fresh linen. There was a kettle already filled on the side, two mismatched mugs hanging above it, and a little welcome note from the owners promising fresh eggs from their hens if we fancied a knock on their door.

We dumped the bags and wandered straight out again, too restless to unpack properly. The short path through the dunes opened onto a stretch of beach that felt almost private; just a few dog-walkers in the distance and the tide slipping quietly out. Standing there with sand already in my shoes, I realised how tightly I’d been gripping the steering wheel for the last three hours. The sea didn’t care about roundabouts or satnav tantrums, and neither, suddenly, did I.

Back at the cottage the little kitchen caught the last of the light through its low windows. We made tea without speaking much, both of us content to let the quiet settle. From the bedroom window you could just see the curve of the bay and the rooftops of the nearest village, close enough for fish and chips later if we could be bothered to walk. For now it was enough to stand there, slightly sandy, slightly sunburnt already, and feel the journey finally let go of us.