I’ll never forget the drive to our holiday home near Farranfore in County Kerry – a proper white-knuckle affair after I took a wrong turn just past Killarney airport. Sat nav said one thing, but a cheeky road sign pointed me down a narrow lane that twisted like a sheepdog’s tail. Ended up in a boggy field with a farmer giving me the side-eye and his collie barking like I’d stolen his dinner. Laughing at my own daftness, I backed out, recalibrated, and finally rolled up to this cracking ground-floor cottage, perfect for our group of ten. From the moment we stepped into that bright hallway, spilling into a massive open-plan living space, I knew we’d struck gold. The kitchen was a dream for rustling up grub – we cracked open a bottle of wine at the breakfast bar before even unpacking – and those two sitting areas, one a cosy snug with a wood burner, had views over the rolling countryside that made my heart skip. Pure anticipation turned to instant love.

But Kerry’s magic isn’t in the guidebooks; it’s in the getting lost. First morning, we piled into the car for a wander, no real plan, and stumbled on a hidden gem just a couple of miles away – a tiny forest trail off the beaten track near Kilgobnet. Mossy paths wound through ancient trees, sunlight dappling the ground like fairy dust, and we picnicked by a babbling stream that nobody else seemed to know about. I felt like a proper explorer, not some tourist herded to the big spots. Later that day, aiming for a quick pub lunch, we veered off down a single-track road and found ourselves at a secluded beach cove by White Strand – empty save for seals sunning themselves. We skimmed stones and paddled in the freezing Atlantic, giggling like kids. Dinner back at the cottage was shepherd’s pie from the well-stocked kitchen, eaten in the snug as rain pattered the windows, fuelling tales of our accidental adventures.

Next day, same story: a “shortcut” to nowhere led us to an old ruined churchyard tucked in the hills above Farranfore. Overgrown with wildflowers, it was straight out of a storybook – we spent hours poking around, imagining the lives of folk from centuries back. No crowds, just us and the wind whispering through the grass. I had a quiet moment there, sitting on a lichen-covered wall, reflecting on how we’re all chasing the obvious highlights, but it’s these serendipitous detours that stick. Makes you realise life’s best bits are the unplanned ones, doesn’t it? Evening brought another find – a hole-in-the-wall café in the village serving the creamiest seafood chowder I’ve ever had, discovered only because we missed the main road.

By week’s end, we’d mapped our own Kerry, full of secret lanes, forgotten paths, and those heart-warming surprises that make you feel like locals. That cottage was the ideal launchpad – spacious bedrooms for everyone, easy living, and windows framing it all. If you fancy ditching the tourist traps for proper hidden treasures, get yourself lost around here. You won’t regret it.