I’ll never forget the drive up to Jedburgh – a proper Scottish Borders adventure that started with me taking a wrong turn just past Kelso, thanks to my rubbish sense of direction and a sat-nav that decided to have a mid-journey sulk. We ended up looping through some winding lanes with sheep giving us the side-eye, but honestly, it just built the anticipation. By the time we rolled into this charming market town, I was buzzing to see our little ground-floor cottage apartment right near the heart of historic Jedburgh.

Pulling into the car park at the back, with its shared lawn area peeking out, my first impressions were spot on. It’s one of those fully refurbished gems – cosy, all on one level with a double bedroom, a smart shower room, and this brilliant open-plan living space. The kitchen’s kitted out nicely, dining spot for two, and a sitting area that looks straight out over the garden. Perfect for us, really – no stairs to lug bags up, and dead central for wandering into town.

We dumped our stuff and headed straight out for a nose around, but food was top of mind after that faffed drive. Jedburgh’s got this lovely vibe with its market-town feel, and we hit the Saturday market first thing. Stalls groaning under fresh scones, local cheeses, and piles of tatties – I grabbed some plump sausages from a Borders butcher and a punnet of raspberries that were like little bursts of summer. Back at the cottage, I fancied myself as a chef and tried knocking up a fry-up with them: tattie scones, black pudding, the works. It was a heroic effort, but let’s just say the kitchen extractor fan earned its keep. My other half politely ate it, bless her, and we laughed about my “cheffy” ambitions over a cuppa.

Evenings were for the pubs, and Jedburgh doesn’t disappoint. The Anchor Inn round the corner does a cracking pint of local ale – something peaty and Borders-brewed that hits the spot – with their steak pie that’s proper pastry perfection, flaky and filled with melt-in-your-mouth beef. We went back twice, once for that pie and chips, another for haddock and chips that came with mushy peas so good I nearly asked for the recipe. Then there’s the Cross Keys, a cosy spot with open fires where we had venison burgers made from roe deer shot nearby. Juicy, gamey, with a cheeky whisky chutney – washed down with a pint of Timothy Taylor’s, naturally.

One night, I got ambitious again in the cottage kitchen, attempting a Borders lamb stew with market veg and a splash of red from the offy. It simmered away while we lounged in the sitting area, and it turned out half-decent – tender lamb, herby and hearty. We ate it at the little dining table, toasting to no disasters. Mind you, reflecting on it now, holidays like this make me realise I’m better at eating than cooking. Who needs Michelin stars when you’ve got pub grub and a well-stocked market?

A couple of lunches at the Chocolate Tree café sorted us out too – their hot chocolate with handmade truffles is sinful, paired with a ploughman’s that’s all local cheddar and pickle. Honestly, this stay was a feast for the senses, all without straying far. Jedburgh’s food scene snuck up on me – simple, satisfying, and utterly addictive. Can’t wait to go back for more.