I’ll never forget the drive up to Conway last month – sat nav decided to play silly buggers halfway through, sending us down a narrow lane that looked more like a sheep track than a road. We ended up in a muddy layby with a flock of woolly locals staring us down, but after a quick U-turn and a bit of faffing, we finally rolled into town just as the sun dipped low over the estuary. Heart racing a tad from the detour, but buzzing with that proper holiday anticipation, you know? Proper excited to kick back.

The place we’d booked was this cosy little apartment right in the heart of things – modern vibes with a nod to seaside charm, nothing flashy but spot on for unwinding. First impressions? Blimey, it was love at first sight. Views out the window straight to the water, and you could hear the waves crashing even with the windows shut. Dropped the bags, cracked open a brew, and thought, yeah, this is going to be mint.

But the real magic kicked off when we ditched the usual tourist traps and let ourselves get properly lost. Llandudno’s just a stone’s throw away, with its cracking beaches and that epic pier – the longest in Wales, apparently – but we veered off the beaten path straightaway. First morning, instead of heading for the cable car up the Orme, we wandered down a side street from the apartment and stumbled on this tucked-away spot by the marina. Tiny fishing boats bobbing about, blokes mending nets and swapping yarns in thick Welsh accents. No crowds, just the salty tang in the air and a heron eyeing us suspiciously. Grabbed fish and chips from a hole-in-the-wall shack there – best I’ve had in ages, none of that overpriced pier nonsense.

Next day, we took a wrong turn on a coastal walk and ended up on a hidden cove path I swear isn’t on any map. Clambering over rocks, we found this secret beach with seals lounging like they owned the place. No one else around – just us, the waves, and a cheeky gull nicking my sandwich. Laughing about it later, I realised how often I barrel through holidays ticking boxes. Getting lost like that? Pure gold. Forces you to slow down, notice the little things, like wildflowers poking through the dunes or the way the light hits the hills.

Afternoon led us to another accidental gem: a quiet trail looping round Bodafon Farm Park area, off the main drag. Spotted wild goats scrambling up cliffs we’d have missed otherwise, and cycled a bit on rented bikes along unmarked lanes – proper off-grid stuff, with butterflies fluttering everywhere. Evening? Strolled back through back alleys to Venue Cymru for a low-key show, but detoured via a wee park with a pond full of ducks. Simple pleasures, but they stick with you.

Reflecting now, that mishap on the drive was a sign – holidays aren’t about plans, they’re about the detours. Conway’s got it all if you stray from the path: those Mostyn Gallery vibes without the queues, beach rambles turning into wildlife watches. We left knackered but grinning, already plotting the next wander. If you’re after proper North Wales magic, get yourself lost here. You won’t regret it.