I’ll never forget the drive up to Conway from Manchester – it was one of those classic British holidays starts, innit? We’d packed the car with enough snacks to feed a small army, but halfway there, just past Llandudno Junction, the satnav decided to throw a wobbly and sent us on a merry detour through some narrow lanes that had me gripping the wheel like it was a lifeline. “Are we lost?” my other half asked, munching on a biscuit. “Nah,” I lied, “just taking the scenic route.” Twenty minutes later, we emerged, a bit frazzled but laughing, right onto the promenade at Rhos-on-Sea. The sea sparkled under that pale Welsh sun, and suddenly all was right with the world. Spotting our holiday spot just off the main drag, close to the beach and the little high street, I felt that proper buzz of anticipation – you know, the one where you imagine curling up with a cuppa and forgetting the world.

Pulling up, we were chuffed to bits with the place. It’s this superb Edwardian garden flat on the ground floor of a semi-detached house, in a cracking spot near the seafront and town centre. Stepping through the private front door into the generous hallway, you could tell straight away someone had put real thought into it – all beautifully styled with those impressive high ceilings and original character features mixed seamlessly with comfy modern furnishings. The spacious sitting room was the star, with its big bay window complete with seating, relaxing sofas, stripped floorboards, and blinds that let the light pour in. It screamed “put your feet up and stay a while.”

And stay we did. This holiday was all about doing sod all, and it was bliss. No grand plans, no rushing about – just lazy days in that flat and its lovely garden. Mornings kicked off with brekkie on the patio, watching the world go by: families strolling the prom, dogs chasing waves, and the odd ice cream van tinkling in the distance. I’d crack open a book – some daft thriller I’d been meaning to read for months – and sink into one of those sofas by the bay window, the sea breeze sneaking in. Lunch was a faff-free picnic from the local Rhos deli: cheese ploughman’s, fresh bread, and a flask of tea. Afternoons blurred into napping in the garden, shaded by mature shrubs, with the hum of bumblebees as my soundtrack. One day, I swear I spent three hours just cloud-watching, pondering life’s big questions like “why don’t we do this more often?”

There was this gentle moment of self-reflection on day two, sprawled in the garden with a GandT (non-alcoholic, mind – pacing ourselves). I thought about how we’re always chasing the next thing – promotions, weekends away in the Lakes, you name it. But here, in this quiet corner of the North Wales Coast, doing precisely nothing felt like the real luxury. No signal stress, no emails pinging; just the rhythm of the tide and the joy of slowing right down. We wandered the prom once or twice for chips from a beach hut, or a gentle poke around the independent shops in Rhos for fudge and postcards, but mostly? Sweet FA. By the end of the week, I felt recharged, softer around the edges. If you’re after a proper unwind, this is the spot – who needs adventures when lounging in an Edwardian gem hits the spot so perfectly?