I’ll never forget the drive up to Conway from Llandudno – we’d planned a cheeky day trip to this walled town just down the coast, but the sat-nav decided to have a midlife crisis right as we hit the A55. It rerouted us through some narrow back lane that felt like it was auditioning for a horror film, complete with sheep glaring at us from the verges. By the time we pulled up, hearts racing and chuckling at our daft luck, I was buzzing with that proper holiday anticipation – you know, the kind where you imagine cosy evenings ahead after ditching the car.

Slipping through the archway into this centrally located first-floor apartment was a right treat. One off-road parking spot sorted, then up the external steps with cracking views over Conway Castle and the river glinting below. Inside, it was all homely vibes: plush sofas begging you to flop down, a Smart TV for rainy evenings, and a breakfast bar perfect for scoffing toast while plotting the day. Ideal spot for us two, though it’d suit mates or a small family no bother. First impressions? Spot on – felt like someone’s thoughtfully kitted-out pad, not some sterile rental.

But the real magic kicked off when we ditched the obvious tourist traps and let ourselves get properly lost. Conway’s got that labyrinth of alleys behind the castle walls, and we wandered into one by accident on day one, stumbling on a teensy tearoom tucked away down AberConway House lane. No neon signs, just a wonky door and the smell of fresh Welsh cakes wafting out. We grabbed a pot of tea and Bara Brith that was so moreish, I’m still dreaming about it. Proper hidden gem – turns out it’s been there donkey’s years, serving locals who’ve sussed out the quiet life.

Next morning, fueled by that, we veered off the high street path and ended up meandering along the riverside footpath, away from the main promenades. Got chatting to a fisherman who pointed us to this overgrown nook by the quay – a little wildflower patch with benches overlooking the estuary, where seals sometimes bob up like cheeky locals saying hello. We sat there for ages, legs dangling, watching herons stalk the mudflats. Felt like we’d nicked a secret from the map apps.

The getting-lost theme peaked that afternoon when we aimed for the castle but took a wrong turn into the backstreets near the harbour. Boom – discovered a family-run chippy that doesn’t even have a website, just a hatch serving battered cod fresher than the sea air. We picnicked on a hidden bench by the walls, dodging the coach parties. Laughing about it later over wine at the breakfast bar, I had one of those moments: holidays like this remind me I’m rubbish at planning but brilliant at serendipity. Who needs itineraries when stumbling on these off-the-beaten-path spots – the quiet pubs with live folk tunes spilling out, or that sundown viewpoint from the old town steps – makes the whole trip sparkle?

Back in Llandudno the next day for a breather, we even found a sneaky ice cream parlour alley off the pier strip, but Conway’s wanders stole the show. If you’re after a base that nudges you into these accidental adventures, this spot’s a winner. Can’t wait to go back and lose myself all over again.