I’ll never forget the drive down to Carbis Bay – we’d packed the car to the gills with beach towels, snacks, and enough books to last a siege, only for the sat-nav to chuck us into a cheeky detour through some narrow lanes that had me gripping the wheel like it was a lifeline. A rogue seagull dive-bombed the windscreen mid-argument about whose turn it was for the aux cord, and we arrived a bit frazzled but buzzing with that holiday anticipation. As we pulled up, though, all that melted away. There it was: this cracking luxury penthouse at Gwel Marten apartments, all sleek and modern with its massive balcony stretching the full width, framing a 180-degree panorama of St Ives Bay that hit us like a proper Cornish welcome. The blues of the sea and sky blending endlessly – it was one of those views you’ve got to see to believe, and we were already plotting our first deckchair session.

From the off, it felt like the perfect spot to do bugger all, and that’s exactly what we did. No grand itineraries, just lazy days sinking into those plush sofas in the bright, airy living room, feet up, mesmerised by the waves rolling in. I’d crack open a paperback – some frothy crime novel I’d been saving – while the others nodded off with mugs of tea going cold. The balcony became our command centre: breakfast out there with the sun warming our faces, lunch ditto, and endless cups of coffee as the light shifted across the bay. Spotting dolphins one afternoon? Pure magic. They arced through the surf right below, like they’d clocked we were too chilled to chase them.

A gentle wander down to Carbis Bay beach was about as active as we got – maybe 10 minutes’ stroll, toes in the sand, then back for more lounging. The coastal path tempted, but we’d save that for another trip; this was about slowing right down. Evenings blurred into reading marathons, with the sea’s rhythm as our soundtrack. One night, as the sun dipped low, painting everything gold, I had a proper moment of self-reflection. Sat there with a GandT, book forgotten, I realised how rare it is to just *be* – no emails pinging, no rush, just the joy of now. We’re all so wired up usually; Cornwall stripped that away, leaving us properly recharged.

The place slept us eight no bother in four comfy rooms, but with the family scattered about like contented cats, it never felt crowded. Short hop to the scenic rail link into St Ives if we fancied a pasty pilgrimage, but mostly? We stayed put, savouring the garden-fresh calm (well, balcony-fresh, but you get me). Porthkidney Sands peeked into view too, all peaceful dunes and hidden coves, but again, no need to conquer it. This holiday was a masterclass in doing very little, and blooming brilliant it was too. If you’re after that slow-burn bliss, you won’t go far wrong here.