I’ll never forget the drive up to the Scottish Borders – a proper white-knuckle affair after our sat-nav decided to have a mid-journey tantrum, sending us on a detour through some narrow lanes that felt more like sheep runs than roads. We were coming from the south, past the Borders’ rolling hills, and by the time we neared Melrose, the anticipation was buzzing. Would the place live up to the photos? Would the weather hold for our walking plans? As we finally pulled up, my worries melted away. There it was, this charming first-floor apartment above a cosy craft shop, with those twelve external steps leading up to a front door that promised sanctuary. Gazing out over the lush greenery of Priorwood Garden and the ancient silhouette of Melrose Abbey, it was love at first sight – a perfect scenic perch for two of us, all homely with antique furnishings and original touches that made it feel like a warm hug.

We stepped into the quaint sitting room, flopped onto the sofa and armchairs, and cracked open a cuppa while the TV flickered in the background. First impressions? Spot on. It was just the retreat we needed after that drive. But this trip was all about lacing up our boots for hikes in the Borders – those gentle hills and trails that make your legs ache in the best way. Day one dawned crisp and bright, so we headed straight out for the St Cuthbert’s Way path, a cracking walk that winds from Melrose towards the Eildon Hills. The views were stunning, wildflowers nodding in the breeze, and we chatted away about nothing much, pretending we were proper explorers. Lunch was a cheeky picnic by a babbling burn – nothing fancy, just cheese rolls from the local bakery.

Come afternoon, though, the British weather pulled its classic trick. One minute blue skies, the next a sneaky drizzle that turned into a full-on downpour. We dashed back, laughing like idiots, soaked to the skin but buzzing from the fresh air. Cosying up in the apartment with mugs of tea and a window seat view of the rain-lashed garden felt like the cosiest win ever. It got me reflecting a bit – how often do we chase perfect plans, only for a bit of weather to remind you that adapting is half the fun? I’m usually a fair-weather walker, moaning if it spits, but that soggy hike shifted something; there’s joy in the muddle too.

Next day, the clouds lifted just enough for another go. We tackled the trails around the Chain Bridge, that old honey of a walk hugging the River Tweed – all swooping valleys and bird calls. The weather teased again, patches of sun giving way to mist, forcing us to reroute back early for a lazy afternoon people-watching from our perch. It was brilliant how the apartment anchored us; after every damp adventure, sinking into those armchairs with the abbey peeking through the gloom was pure bliss.

By the end of our stay, we’d racked up miles of muddy boots and a stack of weather-whipped memories. The Borders’ hikes are magic, rain or shine, and this little spot made every changeable day feel like an adventure worth having. If you’re after a walkers’ haven with a side of hygge, get yourself here – just pack the waterproofs.