I’ll never forget the drive to our little holiday spot in County Kerry – a proper Irish adventure that started with a comedy of errors. We’d piled into the car in Dublin, full of beans after a fry-up breakfast, sat-nav primed for Dromin near Killorglin. But about halfway, in the middle of nowhere, the thing decided to throw a wobbly and sent us down a boggy track that looked more like a sheep’s toilet than a road. We ended up axle-deep in mud, laughing our heads off as I reversed out like a pro rally driver (or so I told myself). A local farmer towed us free with his tractor, chuckling about “ye tourists and your fancy gadgets”. By the time we rolled into the quiet townland, hearts racing, we were buzzing with anticipation – what hidden wonders were waiting?

First impressions? Pure magic. This charming single-storey cottage was just the ticket – a cosy base for our family gang, tucked away in that peaceful spot. Stepped inside to a well-equipped kitchen with electric oven, hob, microwave, fridge, washing machine, kettle and toaster – spot on for knocking up simple suppers. The dining room was perfect for our gab sessions over plates of spuds and stew, and the sitting room? Bliss, with that solid-fuel stove crackling away, drawing us in like a hug after a day’s rambling.

What turned the trip into gold dust were the accidental detours, the off-the-beaten-track gems we stumbled on by getting gloriously lost. Kerry’s like that – one wrong turn and you’re in paradise. First day, aiming for Rossbeigh Beach, we veered off onto a skinny lane and found this secret cove near White Strand, empty save for seals barking like cheeky neighbours. We picnicked on the sand, waves lapping, no souls around – proper hidden gem.

Next, hunting a pub in Milltown, the sat-nav failed again (lesson learned: ditch the tech), and we ended up on a farmer’s boreen overlooking Caragh Lake. Parked up, brewed tea from the cottage supplies, watched mist roll off the water as herons fished. Felt like we’d gatecrashed heaven. Another time, lost en route to Kilgobnet church ruins, we discovered a wildflower meadow bursting with butterflies and an ancient fairy fort – the kids went feral exploring, convinced it was leprechaun central. Even a “shortcut” to the Gap of Dunloe spit us out at a tumbling waterfall cascade, perfect for a splash-about and cheese sarnies.

Getting lost became our superpower. No tourist traps, just these serendipitous spots that felt like ours alone – misty glens, babbling streams, views that stopped you in your tracks. Sure, I had a quiet moment one evening by the stove, mug of tea in hand, reflecting on how we’re all so glued to screens and schedules back home. Out here, wandering off-piste taught me to embrace the faff – life’s richer for it. Kerry’s wild heart snuck up on us, and we loved every muddy, magical mile. Can’t wait to get lost there again.