I’ll never forget the drive up to Llanrwst – we’d set off from Manchester full of beans, dreaming of that classic North Wales escape, only for the sat-nav to chuck a wobbly just past Betws-y-Coed. It sent us down a narrow lane that turned into a single-track rollercoaster, branches scraping the car like it was auditioning for a horror film. Heart in mouth, we eventually popped out near Llanrwst station, laughing it off as the perfect icebreaker for our holiday. Spotting the welcoming first-floor apartment right there in the market town felt like a hug from the universe – open-plan and cosy, with a Smart TV begging for Netflix binges and a kitchen stocked for lazy self-catering mornings.

First impressions? Spot on. We dumped the bags, brewed a cuppa at the kettle, and hit the ground running, itching to explore Conway’s quieter corners. Eryri National Park was literally on our doorstep, but forget the tourist magnets; we were all about stumbling on hidden gems by happy accident. That first afternoon, we wandered out aiming for a vague riverside path and ended up proper lost in the woods behind the town. No signal, no map, just the Conway River gurgling below and a carpet of bluebells that stopped us in our tracks. It was one of those moments where you think, “Blimey, we’re idiots,” but then you sit on a fallen log, share a biscuit, and it’s pure magic. Turned out we’d gatecrashed a secret wild swimming spot – crystal-clear pools tucked under overhanging trees, empty save for a cheeky dipper bird flicking about.

The next day, we embraced the getting-lost ethos again, parking up near the high street and letting our feet lead. A wrong turn down a cobbled alley spat us out at an overgrown churchyard with views over the valley that made my jaw drop. Nobody else around, just us, some ancient gravestones, and the distant hum of the river. We picnicked there on kitchen-toasted sandwiches, feeling like we’d nicked a page from a fairy tale. Later, pushing further into the park’s fringes – no more than a couple of miles out – we veered off a trail into a forgotten meadow bursting with foxgloves. Got ourselves tangled in brambles for our troubles, emerging scratched but grinning, with a pocketful of wild strawberries we foraged on the spot. Proper off-the-beaten-track gold.

Evenings back at the apartment were bliss – flopping on the comfy seating after adventures, dining at the table with tales of our muddles. One night, reflecting over a glass of wine, I caught myself thinking how these unplanned detours beat any itinerary. We’re so wired for efficiency back home, aren’t we? But getting lost here in Llanrwst’s gentle embrace reminded me there’s joy in the faff. No regrets, just a weekend of secret spots that felt like ours alone. If you’re after a peaceful base for couples or mates, this corner of Conway delivers – mishaps and all. Can’t wait to go back and lose myself again.