I’ll never forget the drive up to Hawick in the Scottish Borders – our sat-nav decided to have a mid-journey tantrum and sent us on a scenic detour through some gloriously empty back roads. We ended up stopping at a random farm gate for a cuppa from the flask, laughing about how we’d somehow turned a two-hour trip into three. But as we finally rolled into town, the anticipation bubbled up; those rolling hills and the promise of a proper family unwind had us grinning like kids at Christmas.

Pulling up to the place, we were chuffed to bits. It’s this cracking two-bed apartment right in the heart of Hawick, all cosy and family-friendly with that welcoming vibe that screams ‘kick off your shoes and stay a while’. First impressions? Spot on. The kids bolted straight in, claiming their spots, while I dumped the bags and cracked open a window to let in that fresh Borders air.

We settled into the gentle rhythm of cottage life straight away – or what passes for it in an apartment that feels just as homely. Mornings kicked off with brews and toast, the lot of us still bleary-eyed from the night before. A quick wander half a mile down to the River Teviot became our daily ritual; skimming stones and dipping toes while the water gurgled past. The town’s indie shops pulled us in next – I nabbed a bargain scarf from one of the knitwear spots, proper cashmere heaven that Hawick’s famous for. Lunch in a snug pub followed, fish and chips all round, with the kids demolishing theirs like they hadn’t eaten in days.

One afternoon, we ambled over to the Borders Textile Towerhouse, just a short stroll away. It’s brilliant – exhibitions on the local weaving heritage and even a craft workshop where my youngest tried her hand at knitting. She ended up with a lopsided square that we all declared a masterpiece, though I suspect the sheep might disagree. Feeling peckish again? The Borders Distillery’s right nearby too. We popped in for a wee dram (sipped responsibly, mind), and the kids got apple juice in fancy glasses. Pure joy watching their faces light up.

Of course, it wasn’t all polished perfection. There was the classic family holiday chaos: the Great Jam Spill of Day Two, where my attempt at scones turned the kitchen into a sticky warzone. I stood there amid the wreckage, flour in my hair, thinking, ‘Blimey, when did I turn into this domestic disaster?’ But that’s the magic of these breaks, isn’t it? No schedules, just simple pleasures – paddling in the river, pub grub, and a bit of light-hearted faffing about. It’s the kind of reset you don’t know you need till you’re knee-deep in it.

By the end of the week, we were proper hooked on Hawick’s easy charm. No grand adventures, just us lot soaking up the Borders’ quiet heritage, bellies full and hearts content. If you’re after a relaxed family escape, this is the ticket – chaos, cuddles, and all.