I’ll never forget the drive up from Edinburgh airport – we’d hired a cheeky little automatic to make things easy with the kids in tow, but of course, I took a wrong turn somewhere near Dalkeith and ended up on a winding single-track road that had us all holding our breath around every blind bend. The sat-nav was having a right old meltdown, chirping “recalculating” like it was auditioning for a comedy sketch. By the time we spotted the castle’s silhouette against the rolling Midlothian hills, we were laughing about it, the anticipation bubbling up like we were kids ourselves heading to a secret hideout.

Pulling up to the main door, my first impression was pure magic – this exquisite apartment tucked inside Oxenfoord Castle, just 1.1 miles from Pathhead village, felt like stepping into a fairy tale without the dragons. Off-road parking for our two cars was a godsend after the drive, and as we lugged bags up those four flights of stairs (note to self: pack lighter next time), the promise of cosiness ahead kept us going. It’s the sort of place that hits you with great vibes straight away – surrounded by roaming deer and those stunning 18th-century woodland grounds that make you want to drop everything and explore.

Inside, it opened into a handy boot area for shedding muddy wellies – perfect for our family of four, with two nippers who’d already tracked half the countryside in. The open-plan living space was a dream: a sleek galley kitchen stocked with everything from cafetière to chopping boards, so we could whip up pasta or fry up a full Scottish brekkie without fuss. We’d flop onto the comfy lounge sofas after, bingeing some telly while the kids fought over the remote in that adorable chaotic way cottage life brings. Two bright bedrooms – a king-sized haven in the master and a twin for the little ones – plus a cracking family bathroom with bath and shower over, meant everyone had space without stepping on toes.

Our days blurred into the best kind of relaxed rhythm. Mornings kicked off with toast and marmalade, then we’d wander the gardens, which were bursting with snowdrops and daffodils even in early spring – a gentle reminder that beauty doesn’t need fanfare. The deer would amble by, unperturbed, while we pretended we were lords of the manor. Afternoons? A spot of tennis on the on-site courts, with more giggles than actual rallies, or short hikes along nearby trails, breathing in that crisp Scottish air. One evening, we even rustled up a picnic from the local Pathhead shop and ate it under the trees, the kids turning cartwheels until they conked out.

It wasn’t all polished; there was the usual cottage chaos – a spilled juice carton testing the kitchen’s wipe-clean credentials, and me burning the toast while daydreaming out the window. But that’s the joy of it, isn’t it? In the quiet moments, gazing at the castle views, I reflected on how these simple pleasures – family squabbles over board games, fresh air in our lungs, no rush – recharge you more than any fancy spa. A stone’s throw from Edinburgh’s buzz, yet worlds away in this peaceful nook, it was the perfect family reset. We’re already plotting our return.