I’ll never forget the drive up to Llandudno – a proper British road trip with a side of chaos. We’d piled into the car from Manchester, kids in the back squabbling over crisps, and me navigating with a dodgy sat-nav that decided to have a mid-journey meltdown. Halfway along the A55, it froze on some random roundabout, leaving us looping like idiots until I pulled over for a paper map. Classic me, always biting off more than I can chew with tech. But as we finally crested the hill into town, the anticipation bubbled up – that first glimpse of the sea sparkling under patchy clouds, the Victorian pier poking out like an old mate waving hello. Llandudno looked proper inviting, all swept bays and promenade vibes.

Pulling up to our holiday spot was a treat straight away. It’s this contemporary seaside hideaway, neutral tones of white, black and sage everywhere, with off-road parking that made unpacking a doddle. The place felt like a cosy home-from-home, especially that spacious kitchen with its breakfast bar – perfect for brewing a coffee while plotting the day’s walks. First impressions? Spot on. Loads of local amenities on the doorstep, and it’s smack in the middle of Conway’s coastal charm.

We were all geared up for weather-proof adventures, proper welly-walking stuff along the North Wales coast. Day one dawned bright, so we legged it up the Great Orme, that massive limestone headland looming over town. The tramway was tempting, but nah, we hiked the zigzag path from the West Shore, puffing up past wild goats and gorse bushes buzzing with bees. The views! Blue sea crashing below, Snowdonia peeking in the distance. Kids loved spotting the lighthouse at the top, and we picnicked with sausage rolls from the Orme’s little café, wind whipping our hair like we were in a BBC nature doc.

But oh, the British weather – it’s got a wicked sense of humour. Next morning, plans for a long tramp along the promenade to the pier went pear-shaped. Grey skies rolled in faster than you could say “umbrella,” turning into a proper downpour. We dashed out anyway, hoods up, splashing through puddles to the pier’s end. Arcade games under cover, candyfloss that went soggy in seconds – hilarious chaos. Laughing at ourselves, drenched but daft-happy.

By afternoon, it cleared just enough for a gentler stroll around Happy Valley, that lush park tucked below the Orme. Rhododendrons in bloom (even in autumn, what a surprise), winding paths through woods, and a playground detour for the little ones. I had a proper moment there, sitting on a bench as the sun broke through. Watching the family muck about, I thought, “Blimey, when did we get so good at rolling with the rain?” No grand epiphanies, just a quiet nod that these soggy hikes beat sun-lounging abroad any day – they knit you closer.

Last day, we braved the East Shore path despite a mizzle, spotting seals bobbing offshore. Weather flipped again to golden hour, painting the bay magical. Back at base, drying off in that sage-hued lounge, we were knackered but buzzing. Llandudno’s walks, rain or shine, delivered the lot – proper coastal soul food. Can’t wait to go back.