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, me navigating with a dodgy phone signal and my mate Dave insisting he knew a shortcut. Cue a white-knuckle moment when we missed the turn for the A30 and ended up splashing through a massive puddle that soaked the windscreen. Laugh? We nearly cried. But as the clouds parted over the Cornish hills, the anticipation built – that proper holiday buzz of leaving the daily grind behind for salty sea air and proper downtime.

Pulling into Carbis Bay, my heart lifted. There it was: this cracking contemporary first-floor apartment, all sleek lines and that massive bay window begging you to stare out at the sea. The views hit you like a tonic – breath-taking sweeps across the beach to St Ives, with Godrevy Lighthouse winking in the distance. If you’re dead lucky, dolphins might pop up playing in the bay, but honestly, the vista alone was enough to make you forget the sat-nav fiasco. It sleeps four comfy in two smart bedrooms, spot-on for our little group, and the open-plan living space with its wall of windows and window seat felt like a front-row seat to nature’s show. We flopped onto the big sofas, flicked on the Smart TV for a bit of Freeview, but who were we kidding? The real entertainment was outside.

From that moment, it was all about doing sod all – and I mean that in the best possible way. No grand plans, no ticking off landmarks. Just lazy cottage days stretching out like the tide. Mornings kicked off with tea brewed strong, parked in that window seat watching waves roll in over Carbis Bay beach. The garden below was a suntrap, wildflowers nodding in the breeze, perfect for stretching out with a book and a pasty smuggled from town. I devoured a battered paperback – some daft crime thriller – while the others dozed or played cards. Lunch? A lazy picnic of local cheese and cider from the nearby shop, eaten right there on the grass, toes in the cool earth.

Afternoons blurred into siestas. A gentle wander down to the beach maybe, paddling in the shallows or skim-reading on the sand, but always back for more sofa lounging. Evenings were golden: sunset painting the bay pink, us nursing GandTs and chatting nonsense. One night, a seal bobbed past, and we whooped like kids. No rush, no rush-hour stress – just the joy of slowing right down.

Looking back, I realised how knackered I’d been. Work had me wired, always chasing the next thing. This place forced me to pause, to breathe. It’s funny how the simplest holidays – the ones where you do bugger all – recharge you most. If you fancy proper relaxation, hunt out a spot like this in Carbis Bay. You won’t regret it.