I’ll never forget the drive down to St Ives – what should’ve been a straightforward jaunt from the M5 turned into a comedy of errors thanks to some classic Cornish roadworks and my hopeless sense of direction. We’d left Exeter full of beans, sandwiches packed and the sat-nav chirping away, but halfway through St Erth, it decided to throw a wobbly and sent us looping around narrow lanes that felt more like goat tracks than proper roads. By the time we spotted the signs for Tregenna Castle, tempers were frayed – my other half muttering about “one more detour and I’m walking,” and me pretending I hadn’t just missed the turning for the third time. We arrived in a bit of a flap, bags tumbling out of the boot as a light drizzle started, but honestly, that chaos only made the first glimpse of the place feel like striking gold.

Pulling up to this gem – one of a handful of exclusive holiday homes perched overlooking St Ives Bay – we were gobsmacked. It’s just a three-minute drive from Porthminster Beach, or a gentle stroll across the castle grounds if you’re feeling virtuous, and the harbour and town centre are a quick six minutes by car. Perfectly placed to soak up everything St Ives has to offer without the hassle. From the moment we stepped inside, it was all smiles: cosy, light-filled rooms with those massive bay views that make you gasp and drop your keys (which I did, twice). The sun broke through just as we unpacked, painting the water in that shimmering Cornwall way, and suddenly the drive felt like a distant memory.

We wasted no time diving in. First impressions? Spot on. That evening, we wandered down to Porthminster for fish and chips – proper ones, wrapped in paper and scoffing them on the sand as the tide rolled in. The beach was buzzing with families and dogs chasing waves, and with the property so close, we were back before dark, feet up with a cuppa watching the bay twinkling. Next morning, I snuck out early for a mooch across the castle grounds – proper lush paths winding through, with seals barking out on the rocks below. Felt like our own private playground.

St Ives proper was calling, so we nipped into town, parking dead easy thanks to the spot. The harbour’s a riot of colour – bobbing boats, arty galleries crammed with pottery and paintings, and that unbeatable smell of fresh pasties from the bakeries. We grabbed some from Pasty Presto (go for the cheese and onion, trust me), then pottered along the front, dodging seagulls eyeing our lunch. Light-hearted haggling at the craft stalls, a quick peek into Barbara Hepworth’s garden studio – pure magic, all those sculptures catching the breeze. Back at the house, we cracked open a bottle of local Rattler cider on the terrace, toasting the view as the sun dipped behind Godrevy Lighthouse.

Looking back, that messy arrival was a right laugh, wasn’t it? Taught me not to sweat the small stuff – holidays are for unwinding, and this place delivered in spades. If you’re after a bolt-hole that feels like home but with epic bay vistas and St Ives on your doorstep, you won’t go far wrong here. We’re already plotting a return, minus the sat-nav drama next time.