I’ll never forget the drive up to Kinmel Bay last month – we’d set off from Manchester full of beans, only for the sat-nav to chuck us into a massive snarl-up just past Colwyn Bay. Rain lashing down, queues stretching for miles, and me faffing about with the wrong turn-off. By the time we rolled into the Golden Sands resort, I was knackered, but honestly, that little mishap just made the arrival all the sweeter. Pulling up to our luxury modern two-bedroom caravan, I felt this proper buzz of anticipation – you know, that “ah, finally” moment when holiday mode kicks in.

First impressions? Spot on. It’s sleek and comfy inside, all clean lines and big windows that let the sea breeze wander in. Perched right on the resort, it’s got that perfect holiday vibe without feeling hemmed in. We dumped the bags, cracked open a couple of tins, and just sat there grinning at the view over the dunes towards the beach. Llandudno’s not far – a quick hop along the coast – but we weren’t fussed about dashing off anywhere.

Truth be told, the whole trip was about doing bugger all, and it was bliss. Mornings started lazy as you like: I’d potter out to the caravan’s little garden area with a cuppa and the paper, watching families traipse down to the sands. The sun would creep over the Irish Sea, turning everything golden, and I’d flop into a lounger with a dog-eared paperback – some rubbishy thriller that didn’t tax the brain. No schedules, no rushing. Just me, the book, and the distant crash of waves. My other half would join with her Kindle, and we’d chat about nothing much, or nothing at all.

Afternoons melted into the same glorious rhythm. A gentle stroll along the beach maybe, toes in the sand, picking up the odd shell or dodging jellyfish warnings. Back at the caravan, it was more reading in the garden, feet up, with the faint hum of kids on the resort playground in the background. We’d whack some sausages on the barbecue – nothing fancy, just easy grub – and watch the sunset paint the sky over Rhyl way. One evening, I caught myself staring at a gull wheeling about, thinking how I never do this at home. Work’s always nagging, innit? Emails, deadlines, the lot. Here, time just slowed right down, and it hit me: sometimes the best holiday is the one where you achieve precisely sod all. A proper reset.

Evenings were for lounging inside, telly on low, maybe a board game if we could be arsed. The caravan’s cosy setup made it dead easy – plush sofas, decent Wi-Fi if you needed it (we didn’t), and that sea air keeping things fresh. No big nights out in Llandudno’s pier or anything; we saved our energy for another day of sweet nothing.

Heading home, I felt recharged, not knackered. If you’re after a chilled Welsh break, this spot’s a gem. Proper joy in the slowdown.