I’ll never forget the drive down to Herefordshire last month – me behind the wheel of our trusty old estate car, sat-nav chirping away like it knew best, and my other half navigating with a crumpled Ordnance Survey map for good measure. We’d taken a wrong turn somewhere near Leominster, thanks to a cheeky diversion sign that led us down a winding lane barely wide enough for a tractor. “Are we lost already?” she laughed, as we bumped along past hedgerows thick with blackberries. Turns out, that little mishap was the perfect opener to the holiday – getting lost became our theme, uncovering hidden gems we’d never have found otherwise.

Pulling up to this fabulous half-timbered property just a stone’s throw from Pembridge on the Black and White Village Trail, I felt that proper buzz of anticipation. Would it live up to the photos? Blimey, it exceeded them. Nestled in an idyllic rural spot, it had this luxurious outdoor hot tub steaming away invitingly, a brilliant games barn packed with fun, bikes ready for adventures, and garden games like croquet, badminton, and boules to keep us amused. First impressions? Spot on – cosy, characterful, and crying out for us to kick back.

But the real magic kicked off when we decided to pedal off on those complimentary bikes the next morning, no plan in mind, just fancying a nose around. Pembridge itself is a cracker, with its wonky black-and-white cottages lining the high street, but we veered off down a leafy lane that the map didn’t even bother with. Before we knew it, we’d stumbled on a tucked-away orchard bursting with heritage apple varieties – Cox’s Orange Pippin and all sorts. The farmer there, a proper friendly chap with a flat cap, let us pick a bagful for free, chatting about cider-making traditions. We munched them on the spot, juice dripping down our chins like kids. Pure joy.

That set the tone. One afternoon, aiming for a gentle stroll near the River Arrow – which flows right by Pembridge – we took a “shortcut” through a kissing gate that looked promising. Lost again, but what a find: a secret meadow alive with wildflowers and butterflies, overlooked by a crumbling old dovecote that felt like stepping into a Beatrix Potter tale. We picnicked there with local cheeses from a Pembridge farm shop we’d popped into earlier, the kind of off-the-beaten-track bliss you can’t book on TripAdvisor.

Evenings were for the hot tub under starry skies, bubbling away while we played boules on the lawn, giggling over nothing. One night, a boules shot went wildly astray, landing in the flowerbeds – cue a daft half-hour hunt by torchlight, which somehow led to spotting a family of badgers snuffling about in the twilight. Hidden wildlife right on our doorstep!

Reflecting on it now, sat back home with a cuppa, I reckon that’s the beauty of these Herefordshire hideaways. In our rush-a-day lives, we forget how brilliant it is to let go of the itinerary, embrace a bit of getting lost, and uncover those quiet corners that feel like they’re just for you. This spot near Pembridge nailed it – a proper tonic for the soul. Can’t wait to go back and lose ourselves all over again.