I’ll never forget the drive up to Llandudno – that classic British holiday road trip where everything’s going swimmingly until it isn’t. We’d piled the car with enough snacks to feed a small army ( crisps, pork scratchings, the works), kids buzzing in the back about building sandcastles, when halfway through Snowdonia, the sat-nav decided to throw a wobbly. It rerouted us down some winding lane that felt like it hadn’t seen tarmac since the war, and we ended up stuck behind a sheep farmer’s tractor for what seemed like hours. “Dad, are we there yet?” came the inevitable chorus, and I swear my other half shot me a look that said, ‘This is your fault for not checking the route.’ Still, by the time we hit the A55, the anticipation was building – Llandudno’s that perfect seaside spot, isn’t it? All Victorian charm and sea breezes, and I could already picture us kicking back.

Pulling up to our first-floor apartment right in the heart of the bustling coastal town, in Conway county, North Wales, we were chuffed to bits. First impressions? Spot on. It’s this tastefully done-up place, superbly positioned for popping out to shops, pubs, and the beach without breaking a sweat. We parked at the roadside, hauled up the bags amid much huffing and puffing (holiday chaos starts early), and stepped inside to a proper welcoming vibe. The fully-equipped kitchen was a godsend – I rustled up some beans on toast for the little ones while they unpacked their toys everywhere, turning the lounge into a makeshift den. That window-side dining table became our feast spot for fish finger suppers, and come evening, we all piled on the sofa with the Smart TV blaring a Pixar flick, toasty warm by the electric log-effect fire. Pure bliss after the road drama.

The next few days were all about those simple seaside pleasures – no grand plans, just proper family lark. Mornings kicked off with a stroll down to North Shore Beach, buckets and spades in tow, building wonky castles that the tide claimed before lunch. The kids went feral chasing seagulls, while we parents sipped tea from flasks, laughing at their muddy knees. Afternoons meant wandering Mostyn Street for fudge and rock from the old-school sweet shops – I must’ve spent a tenner on sticky treats that ended up glued to car seats. One highlight was the Great Orme Tramway, just a short hop away; we trundled up for goat-spotting and panoramic views that had us all oohing and aahing over the bay. Pub lunch at a nearby spot – nothing fancy, just pie and chips – with the littluns charming the bar staff into extra ice cream.

Of course, cottage life (apartment edition) brought its gentle chaos: the time the toddler smeared jam across the sofa, or when we realised we’d forgotten the beach tent and improvised with towels. Light-hearted stuff that makes you reflect – holidays like this remind me how the best memories aren’t Instagram-perfect, but the daft, sandy, full-bellied ones with your lot. Llandudno nailed it for us: relaxed, joyful, and just the right side of hectic. We’re already plotting a return – next time, I’m double-checking that sat-nav.