I’ll never forget the drive up to Conway – well, Llanddulas, to be precise. We’d packed the car with enough snacks to feed a small army, but halfway there, just past Colwyn Bay, the sat nav decided to throw a wobbly and sent us down a narrow lane that looked more like a sheep track. Cue mild panic as branches scraped the roof, and my other half muttering about my “shortcut skills”. Twenty minutes later, we emerged unscathed, laughing it off, with the sea sparkling ahead. Honestly, that little mishap just built the anticipation – by the time we pulled into the caravan park, I was buzzing to see our spot.

First impressions? Blimey, it was spot on. This beautiful luxury two-bedroom caravan sleeps up to six, but it was just us four – me, the missus, and the kids. Cosy yet swish inside, with everything you need for a proper getaway. We splashed out on the brand-new hot tub (small extra charge, but worth every penny), and that first evening, bubbling away under the stars after a beach walk at sunset, it set the perfect family mood. Memories made right there.

But let’s get to the real star of the show: the food. We’d planned to self-cater a bit, hitting up the local markets for fresh bits. First morning, we wandered to the Llanddulas village shop – nothing fancy, but they had cracking local bacon, proper Welsh cheeses, and eggs from nearby farms. I fancied myself as a chef, cracking on with a full Welsh breakfast in the caravan’s kitchenette: laverbread (that salty seaweed mush – love it or hate it, I’m team love), cockles from a tin, grilled tomatoes, and toast slathered in marmalade. The kids turned their noses up at the laverbread, calling it “sea slime”, which had us in stitches. My attempt wasn’t half bad, though – a gentle pat on the back for not burning the caravan down.

Lunch was a pub crawl – well, a gentle stroll to the local gems within spitting distance. The Tal-y-Cafn pub down the road does a mean fish and chips, using fresh catch from Conway Bay, wrapped in proper newspaper. Crispy batter, mushy peas on the side, and a pint of Brains to wash it down. We sat outside, watching the estuary, feeling like locals. Later, we tried cooking again: I marinated some lamb chops from the market (spot the Conway farmer’s stall with those ruby-red beauties), chucked them on the caravan’s little grill with rosemary and garlic. Paired it with new potatoes and a rocket salad. Turned out lush, if I say so myself – though I did slightly overdo the garlic, leaving us all a bit whiffy for the hot tub dip.

Evenings were pub heaven. The Groes Inn, just a short hop away, does hearty roast dinners on Sundays – beef dripping with gravy, Yorkshire puds the size of saucers, and sticky toffee pudding that had the kids begging for seconds. We chatted with locals over cider, swapping stories about the best beach foraging spots. One night, we even grabbed takeaway from the chippy in Pensarn – curry sauce on everything, naturally – and ate it picnic-style on the sand as the sun dipped.

Reflecting on it now, amid the chaos of cooking fails (one charred pasty incident I won’t dwell on), it was those simple meals that made it special. No Michelin stars needed – just good grub, family banter, and that sea air whetting the appetite. If you’re after a food-focused Welsh escape, this is it. We’re already plotting the next trip.