I’ll never forget the drive to Llandudno – or rather, the bit just before we arrived. We’d piled into the car from Manchester, kids buzzing in the back with crisps and iPads, me navigating via a dodgy phone signal. About halfway, disaster struck: a rogue seagull decided our windscreen was its personal loo. Splattered and swearing under my breath (well, mildly), we pulled over at a services for a frantic clean-up with baby wipes. The kids thought it was hilarious, calling it “gull graffiti”. By the time we hit the A55, anticipation was sky-high – I could practically taste the sea air and fish and chips.

Pulling into Rhos-on-Sea, that sweet spot tucked between Colwyn Bay and Llandudno, the tension melted away. First impressions? Magic. The North Wales coast unfolded like a postcard: glittering bay, Victorian pier in the distance, and our charming purpose-built modern flat waiting like a cosy hug. Tucked to the side of a house with its own private entrance, it screamed peaceful retreat. Inside, it was all bright and airy, decked out in those soft coastal blues and whites that make you feel instantly chilled. Open-plan living space with plush seating – perfect for flopping after a day out.

We wasted no time settling in. First morning, patio doors flung wide to a warm breeze, us sipping tea on the outdoor seating as the sky turned that impossible pink. The kids dashed straight to Rhos-on-Sea beach, just a stroll away – buckets and spades in hand, building wonky sandcastles while I pretended to read and secretly joined in. There’s something about paddling in that bracing Irish Sea water, isn’t there? Chilly toes, salty giggles, and the odd wave chase that ends in soggy trousers.

Afternoons were for ambling along the prom towards Llandudno’s West Shore – ice creams from the parlour, peering at donkeys on the beach (no rides for us, too soft-hearted), and waving at the tramway up Great Orme. We didn’t climb it – too knackered after chasing the little ones – but the views from down below were stunning enough. Evenings back at the flat were pure bliss: me lounging with a glass of wine on the patio, watching the sun dip, while the family sprawled for CBeebies or a DVD. Cottage life chaos at its finest – one kid spilling juice on the rug, the other demanding “just one more story” – but that’s the joy of it, isn’t it?

One quiet moment stands out: sitting there alone after bedtime, cuppa in hand, reflecting on how these simple pleasures recharge you. No grand adventures, just family, sea breezes, and a flat that felt like home. We left with sandy shoes and fuller hearts, already plotting a return. If you’re after a relaxed family break on the North Wales coast, this is the spot – mishaps and all.