I’ll never forget the drive up to Conway County last month – me, Sarah, and our two lads, Tom and Jack, crammed into the car with enough snacks to feed a small army. We’d been buzzing with anticipation for days, dreaming of lazy days in North Wales, but about halfway there, disaster struck. The sat-nav decided to have a midlife crisis and sent us down a narrow lane that turned into a muddy track. “This isn’t right,” I muttered, as we spluttered to a halt in a puddle that could’ve swallowed the car whole. Twenty minutes of reversing (and a fair bit of husband-wife bickering) later, we were back on track, laughing about it over emergency crisps. By the time we rolled up to our detached bungalow near Betws yn Rhos, just 4.5 miles from Abergele, the sun was dipping low, and honestly, it was love at first sight.

Stepping inside this stylish little gem felt like a warm hug. It’s one of those places furnished with real thought – cosy yet chic, perfect for us as a family. The open layout blew us away: that bright sitting room with its far-reaching views through the patio doors, and a cracking double-sided woodburner that heats the whole space, spilling warmth into the dining area. The kitchen? A dream, with sleek units and a big breakfast counter where we’d perch, chatting while one of us played chef. No hotel stiffness here – just pure, welcoming luxury for unwinding.

We settled in quick, kicking off shoes and cracking open a bottle of wine as the boys dashed out to explore the garden. First morning, we wandered into Betws yn Rhos village, just a stroll away – picked up fresh bread and local cheese from the little shop, feeling properly immersed in Welsh cottage life. Mornings were for brekkie at that counter, bacon sizzling while we planned nothing much. Afternoons? Gentle rambles along the nearby paths, spotting sheep and breathing in that crisp Conway air. One day we drove the short hop to Abergele for beach time – building epic sandcastles that inevitably collapsed into hilarious soggy messes, the boys shrieking with delight as waves snuck up.

Evenings were the best bit, though – woodburner crackling, board games scattered across the dining table, and a simple roast that somehow tasted better than anything posh. There was chaos, mind you: Jack spilling juice everywhere, Tom’s endless questions about Welsh dragons. But that’s the joy of it, isn’t it? No schedules, just us lot pottering about, rediscovering how to switch off. I caught myself one night, staring out those patio doors at the stars, thinking how we’d got so caught up in the daily grind back home. This break reminded me – simple stuff like family giggles and a proper fire really is enough.

We left with full bellies, sandy shoes, and promises to return. If you’re after a relaxed family escape in Conway, this is the spot – pure magic without the faff.