I’ll never forget the drive down to Wexford – or rather, the comedy of errors that got us there. We’d piled into the car in Dublin full of excitement, kids buzzing about beaches and me dreaming of a proper sit-down with a cuppa. But oh no, halfway through, the sat-nav decided to throw a wobbly. It sent us on a wild detour through some narrow lanes that felt more like sheep tracks than roads. We ended up in a muddy farmyard, reversing into a ditch with the kids chanting “are we there yet?” like a broken record. My other half was muttering about trusting technology less, and I was laughing so hard I nearly spilled my travel mug. A quick u-turn, a sheepish wave to the bemused farmer, and we were back on track – hearts racing, but still grinning.

By the time we rolled into Ballysheen, just a stone’s throw from Rosslare Harbour, the anticipation was electric. I’d been picturing this quirky semi-detached cottage next to the owners’ place as our little haven – and it didn’t disappoint. Pulling up, we were hit with those great first impressions: the sea air whipping in from barely five miles away, the garden bursting with wildflowers, and this welcoming vibe that screamed “kick off your shoes and relax.” It’s one of those unusual spots, uniquely designed for families like ours, with that homely, lived-in charm that makes you feel instantly at ease.

Stepping inside after our arrival chaos, it was like the mishaps melted away. Four comfy bedrooms sorted us perfectly – two on the ground floor for my mum who’s not as nimble as she used to be, and two cracking family rooms upstairs with en-suites that felt like a luxury treat. Flexible setup too, so we could shuffle beds around without fuss. The kids claimed their spots in seconds, flinging bags everywhere, while I pottered about, soaking in the quirky touches that made it feel special rather than cookie-cutter.

That first afternoon, we barely unpacked before heading out for a wander. Rosslare Harbour’s so close, we strolled down for fish and chips by the water, watching the boats bob and the gulls dive-bomb for scraps. Laughter echoed as the littlest one chased waves on the nearby strand, sandy toes and all. Back at the cottage, we cracked open a picnic supper on the patio, the sun dipping low over the Sunny South East – pure magic.

Looking back, that bumpy journey was the perfect icebreaker. It had us reflecting on how holidays aren’t about flawless plans, but those daft moments that bond you. Staying here in Wexford reminded me to loosen up, embrace the quirks – just like the cottage itself. We’ve already pencilled in a return; after all, who needs sat-nav when you’ve got memories like these?