I’ll never forget the drive down to St Ives – or rather, the near-disaster that kicked it off. We’d piled into the car in the pouring rain somewhere near Exeter, sat-nav confidently directing us along those twisty Cornish lanes. Then, about 20 minutes from Carbis Bay, I took a wrong turn onto a single-track road that just petered out into a muddy farm gate. Cue a frantic three-point turn in the downpour, with my other half muttering about my ‘legendary sense of direction’. We arrived a bit later than planned, but oh, what a first impression. Pulling up to this charming ground-floor apartment, I was buzzing with that holiday anticipation – you know, the kind where you imagine lazy mornings with coffee and sea views. And there it was: stunning vistas over St Ives Bay right from the living room window, all golden sands and sparkling water below. Perfectly placed for wandering down to Carbis Bay’s beach in minutes, it felt like our little peaceful haven.

First morning, the sun was out, bold as brass, so we laced up our boots for a proper coastal hike along the South West Coast Path. Starting right from the apartment, it’s dead easy to join the trail heading towards St Ives proper. The path hugs the cliffs, with gorse buzzing with bees and the sea crashing below – proper postcard stuff. We ambled past Porthminster Beach, stopping for pasties from a beachside kiosk (mine with extra cheese, naturally). Felt like we’d cracked the holiday code: fresh air, stunning views, and not a care in the world.

But this is Britain, innit? By afternoon, the weather turned on us like a moody teenager. Grey skies rolled in from the bay, wind whipping up, and sudden squalls had us dashing for cover under a cliff overhang. Plans for a longer trek to Porthkidney Sands? Scrubbed. Instead, we hunkered down with tea and biscuits, watching the waves from the apartment’s cosy nook. It was a gentle nudge to slow down – I caught myself thinking how I’m always rushing about back home, missing these forced pauses. Hilarious, really: me, the eternal optimist, faffing with soggy maps while rain lashed the windows.

Next day, blue skies again! We tried a shorter loop from Carbis Bay up to the headland, dodging rock pools and spotting seals bobbing in the surf. The weather held just long enough for fish and chips al fresco on the beach, sand between our toes. But come evening, mist descended like a blanket, turning our planned sunset stroll into a giggling stumble back along the dimly lit path, arms linked for safety. Those shifts kept us on our toes – one minute hiking high above the bay, breathing in that salty air, the next cosied up with a book as thunder rumbled offshore.

By the end of the week, those weather-whipped walks had us knackered but chuffed. The apartment’s sea views made every grey day bearable, and we’d notched up miles of proper Cornish exploring without straying far. If you fancy a spot where hikes meet hygge, this is it – just pack a brolly and a sense of humour. Can’t wait to go back.