I’ll never forget the drive up to Enniskillen – we’d packed the car to the roof with kids’ gear, snacks, and enough board games to survive a siege, only for the sat-nav to chuck a wobbly just past Omagh. It rerouted us down some nameless back lane that turned into a single-track affair, complete with sheep giving us the evil eye and a puddle that nearly swallowed a wheel. Heart in mouth, I was cursing my optimism for ditching the main road for “scenic views”. But honestly, that little mishap was the perfect teaser – by the time we rolled up, anticipation buzzing, the first glimpse of the place had us grinning like idiots.

The property was a proper gem, that cosy cottage vibe with space for our rabble of eight (we’re a big family, what can I say?). Two sitting rooms sorted us out brilliantly – one in the sun-drenched conservatory with a pool table that had the lads cueing up before we’d even unpacked, the other all plush sofas huddled round a woodburning stove begging for a lazy evening. And those views? Uninterrupted panoramas over County Fermanagh’s rolling countryside and Upper Lough Erne, the kind that make you forget the world’s woes. We wandered down the road to Knockninny Key by the hotel – grabbed a pint and fish and chips with the lough sparkling below. Pure bliss.

But the real magic kicked off when we embraced getting properly lost. First day, fancying a wander, we veered off the path near the key and stumbled on a hidden cove that doesn’t even ping on maps. Crystal water lapping at a pebbly shore, herons eyeing us suspiciously – we spent hours skimming stones and picnicking on cheese sarnies. Felt like we’d gatecrashed paradise. Next morning, I suggested the Lough Erne Canoe Trail, but instead of sticking to the marked route, we paddled off-piste towards a cluster of wee islands. Lost our bearings for a bit (cue mild panic from the missus), but emerged at this secret bay ringed by ancient hawthorn trees, alive with birdsong. We moored up, foraged blackberries, and just sat, watching otters play. No crowds, no noise – just us and the wild.

Afternoons blurred into serendipitous finds: a forgotten jetty perfect for casting lines (caught nowt, but the craic was mighty), or that time we bushwhacked through ferns to a wildflower meadow buzzing with butterflies, right on our doorstep. One evening, aiming for a sunset stroll, we took a “shortcut” that looped us into a misty glen with a tumbling stream – turned out to be a local’s fishing spot, empty save for us. Shared a flask of tea with a passing rambler who tipped us off about it.

Looking back, that self-inflicted wandering was the holiday’s heartbeat. In the rush of life, we rarely switch off the sat-nav mindset, do we? Here, getting lost unlocked these off-the-beaten-track treasures – hidden coves, secret islands, quiet glens – that made the trip unforgettable. If you’re after a Fermanagh escape where the best bits find you by accident, this corner of Enniskillen’s your spot. We’re already plotting a return.