I’ll never forget the drive up to Conway from Manchester – it’s only about an hour and a half, but of course, I managed to cock it up by taking a wrong turn near Colwyn Bay, ending up in some narrow lane with sheep eyeballing me like I’d gatecrashed their party. Still, by the time I pulled into Llandudno, the sun was peeking through the clouds, and my heart was doing that little excited skip you get when a holiday’s finally kicking off.

The property was just what we needed: a comfy ground-floor apartment right in the thick of things on the seafront, perfect for us two. First impressions? Spot on. We dumped the bags, cracked open a window, and there it was – North Shore Beach practically on the doorstep, waves lapping away and families building sandcastles. I could already picture lazy strolls along the promenade, fish and chips in hand. The off-road parking spot was a godsend too; finding a space in this buzzing town is like winning the lottery.

Next morning, we laced up our boots for a proper Welsh coastal hike. Weather was glorious – blue skies, that crisp sea breeze – so we headed straight for the North Shore, then veered up towards the Great Orme. It’s this massive limestone headland looming over Llandudno, and the paths up there are brilliant: undulating cliffs, gorse buzzing with bees, and views that make you stop and gawp across the bay to Conway’s castle. We puffed our way to the top, rewarded with a panoramic sweep of the Irish Sea. Felt like proper adventurers, me snapping selfies while she pretended not to notice my dodgy pose.

But oh, the British weather – it’s got a wicked sense of humour, doesn’t it? By afternoon, the sky turned from azure to battleship grey faster than you can say “umbrella”. Sudden downpour had us legging it back down the Orme, coats flapping like superheroes (or drowned rats, depending on your view). Plans for a long beach ramble scuppered, we ducked into the apartment, dripping but giggling. Curled up in the sitting room with the telly on, kettle on for endless cups of tea, it was actually rather cosy. That’s when I had a bit of a moment, staring out at the rain-lashed promenade: holidays aren’t about forcing the sunshine, are they? Sometimes the soggy bits make the good ones shine brighter.

Day two, the forecast promised better, so we tried the quieter West Shore beach – a short walk away, all golden sands and epic vistas over to Conway’s medieval walls. Weather held (mostly), letting us amble for miles, dodging rock pools and chatting nonsense. Another cheeky shower mid-hike forced an impromptu picnic under a beach shelter, but it just added to the charm. Back at base, we’d flop into that spacious double bedroom knackered but buzzing.

Staying put in Llandudno let the weather dictate our walks – wild and windswept one minute, serene the next – and it was all the better for it. Conway’s coast has this magic way of turning a damp tramp into a tale worth retelling. We’re already plotting a return, come rain or shine.