I’ll never forget the drive down to Dumfries and Galloway last summer – me at the wheel, kids in the back bickering over crisps, and the satnav deciding to throw a wobbly just as we hit the twisty roads near Dalbeattie. We ended up taking a daft detour through some narrow lanes that had hedges scraping the sides of the car, and I’m pretty sure I aged a year swearing under my breath (quietly, mind). But as we crested the hill into Kippford, all that faded away. There it was, this gorgeous sailing village hugging the River Urr, boats bobbing gently, and the sun glinting off the water. My heart lifted – we were nearly there, and it already felt like holiday magic.

Pulling up, we parked by the roadside and lugged our bags down the short path through the garden – one or two steps nearly did for my other half’s flip-flops, but we made it laughing. The cottage is the upper part of a proper traditional over-and-under job, right on the water’s edge in this elevated spot. What a stunner: spacious inside, with a sun trap garden out back overlooking the river, and level access via a little bridge. But honestly, the real showstopper is that living room bay window – you plonk down with a cuppa and you’re staring straight across to the hills of Bengairn and Screel. First impressions? Bloody brilliant. Or rather, absolutely cracking. We arrived buzzing with that pre-holiday anticipation, windows flung open to the salty breeze, and instantly felt at home.

The days blurred into this perfect rhythm of cottage chaos and simple joys. Mornings started with brekkie in the garden, watching seals pop up in the river like cheeky locals saying hello. The kids – aged 8 and 11 – were out the door faster than you could say “wellies”, pottering down to Kippford’s pebble beach for stone-skipping contests that always ended in soggy trousers and giggles. We’d pack a picnic and wander the coastal path, spotting oystercatchers and the odd heron, never straying far – it’s all right here, innit? Afternoons were for lazy swims off the shore (bracing, but character-building), or hiring kayaks from the village slipway to paddle gently up the Urr, waving at fishermen pulling in mackerel.

Evenings brought the best bit: firing up the barbecue in that sunny garden while the sun dipped behind the hills, painting everything gold. We’d play board games inside as the light faded, the bay window framing it all like a postcard. Sure, there was the odd mishap – like the time the youngest tipped a full bowl of pasta sauce down the stairs, turning us into a slapstick cleanup crew. But that’s cottage life, isn’t it? Messy, unpolished, utterly brilliant.

Looking back, sat here in the grey drizzle back home, I realise it was those quiet moments – feet up, river views, family squabbles melting into stories – that recharged us. No grand plans, just us and the water’s edge. If you’re after a relaxed family break in Dumfries and Galloway, hunt out a spot like this in Kippford. It’ll have you grinning like an eejit, I promise. We’re already plotting a return.