I’ll never forget the drive up to Portrush – or rather, the bit just before we arrived. We’d set off from Belfast early, me and the wife, buzzing with that proper holiday anticipation, you know? Windows down, radio blasting some cracking tunes, dreaming of sandy beaches and fish suppers. But then, about halfway, the sat-nav decided to have a proper hissy fit. It rerouted us down some tiny B-road that turned into a single-track nightmare, complete with a sheep blockade. There we were, inching along, me apologising to the flock like they could understand, while she laughed so hard she nearly spilled her thermos of tea. Classic us – holidays always start with a daft mishap.

By the time we pulled into the caravan park near Benone, just a stone’s throw from Castlerock, the sun was peeking through the clouds, and all was forgiven. First impressions? Bloody brilliant. This welcoming open-plan static caravan felt like a hug from an old mate – cosy, uncluttered, right by the beach with the sea air wafting in. We parked up, dumped the bags in the spacious living area, and straight away I was in love with the kitchen setup. Decent oven, all the gadgets you need for knocking up a fry-up, and a big dining table perfect for our morning cuppas and planning chats.

The bedrooms were spot on too – a comfy double for us, two twins that’d suit kids if we’d brought any (next time!), and a shower room with a separate loo that meant no queueing dramas. We cracked open the windows, unpacked the picnic gear, and headed straight out. Benone Beach is right there, miles of golden sand stretching out, waves crashing like they were putting on a show just for us. We wandered along, paddling in the chilly Irish Sea, picking up shells and dodging the odd jellyfish – nothing says relaxed getaway like that simple thrill.

Evenings were pure bliss. After a gentle stroll to the nearby pub for a pint and a natter with locals (they’re so friendly up here), we’d fire up the picnic table outside. One night, I tried my hand at a seaside barbecue – sausages, baps, the works – but the wind had other ideas, sending smoke everywhere and me flapping about like a startled seagull. She just sat there giggling, wine in hand, calling it “cottage life chaos at its finest”. Spot on, that was. We’d hunker down inside after, feet up in the sitting area, watching the sunset turn the sky pink over the dunes.

Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t all Instagram-perfect. I had a moment one afternoon, sat on the beach with a brew, watching families building sandcastles nearby. Made me reflect – we’re not as young as we used to be, no rugrats of our own, but these little breaks remind you life’s about the quiet joys, isn’t it? No rush, no schedules, just us, the coast, and a bit of gentle mayhem. Portrush and this corner of County Londonderry nailed it for a chilled couple’s escape. We’re already plotting a return – sat-nav permitting.