I’ll never forget the drive down to Carbis Bay – what was meant to be a straightforward motorway slog from up north turned into a right old faff when we hit a massive tailback just past Exeter. Rain lashing the windscreen, kids bickering in the back about who got the last Haribo, and me trying to navigate with a phone that kept losing signal. By the time we crawled off the A30, I was frazzled, convinced we’d miss the checkout window and end up sleeping in the car park. But as we wound down that final twisty lane towards Valley Road, the clouds parted just enough to tease a glimpse of the sea, and suddenly the tension eased. St Ives was calling, and we were nearly there.

Pulling up outside the luxury penthouse apartment, still a bit hot and bothered from wrestling suitcases out of the boot in a drizzle, we fumbled with the key safe – turns out I’d punched in the wrong code twice, thanks to numb fingers. Classic me, always one step behind. But oh, the moment that door swung open? Pure magic. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the most jaw-dropping panorama: the Atlantic crashing in below, St Ives Bay stretching out like a glittering postcard, and there in the distance, Godrevy Lighthouse standing sentinel against the horizon. It was like stepping into someone else’s dream holiday, and for a second, I just stood there, bags dumped by the door, grinning like an idiot.

The place itself was spot on for us – a sleek open-plan living space with a kitchen, dining area and comfy sofas all flowing together, meaning no one missed out on those epic views while rustling up fish fingers or cracking open a bottle of Cornish rosé. Three cosy bedrooms slept our lot of six without a hitch, and after that chaotic arrival, it felt like a proper sanctuary. We dumped our stuff and headed straight out for a leg-stretch down the valley path – just ten minutes or so of that fresh sea air, and we were at the beach, toes in the sand, watching surfers ride the waves. The short walk to the scenic railway or the coastal path was tempting too, but we were knackered; instead, we wandered into St Ives proper on the bus, grabbing pasties from a hole-in-the-wall spot that smelled like heaven.

That first evening, as the sun dipped low and painted the lighthouse gold, we cracked out a board game in the living room, the ocean’s rumble as our soundtrack. Looking back, that arrival mishap was a blessing – it made the penthouse’s welcome all the sweeter, a reminder to slow down and soak it in. Carbis Bay had us hooked from the off; who needs a smooth journey when the views hit like that? We ended up extending our stay, because why rush away from paradise?