I finally made it to Llandudno after what felt like the world's longest drive from Manchester, complete with a cheeky little mishap when I took a wrong turn near Colwyn Bay and ended up in a queue of caravans crawling along the A55. Typical me, relying on sat-nav but forgetting to charge my phone halfway through – cue 20 minutes of frantic map-scrolling at a layby with a lukewarm cuppa from a service station. Still, as the North Wales coastline came into view, all that stress melted away. I was buzzing with anticipation, imagining lazy evenings in our plush holiday home and tucking into proper Welsh grub.

Pulling up to the property – a swish modern detached house with all the bells and whistles, including a cracking hot tub out back – my first impressions were spot on. It screamed luxury self-catering, with a massive open-plan kitchen that had me grinning like a kid at Christmas. No poky BandB for us; this was proper home-from-home vibes, perfect for faffing about with meals.

First order of business? Stocking up. We nipped straight to Llandudno's market on the high street – what a gem. Stalls heaving with fresh local produce: Welsh cheeses that could make you weep with joy, plump leeks bigger than my arm, and racks of bara brith that smelled like heaven. I grabbed a load of bara lawr (laverbread) and cockles, determined to channel my inner Welsh mammy and cook up an authentic breakfast the next morning. Spoiler: it was more of a heroic fail. My attempt at laverbread on toast turned into a salty sludge disaster – too much oatmeal, not enough finesse. Laughed it off with a cup of strong tea, though. Self-reflection moment: maybe I'm better at eating than cooking, eh?

Evenings were all about the pubs. The King's Head down on Mostyn Street became our local haunt – proper old-school boozer with beams (well, you know the type) and the best fish and chips I've had in ages. Crispy batter, fat chips, and mushy peas that hit the spot after a windy promenade stroll. We washed it down with a pint of Conway Brewery's Welsh Pride; smooth as you like. One night, we pushed the boat out at the Cottage Loaf, just a short wander away. Their Welsh rarebit was legendary – gooey cheddar on sourdough toast, with a cheeky pickle on the side. I hoovered it up, then demolished a lamb cawl stew that warmed me right through. Chatted with locals about the best spots for crab fresh off the boats; turns out the fishmonger near the pier does cracking seafood platters.

Back at the house, cooking attempts got bolder. Midweek market haul included Welsh black beef from a nearby butcher – seared it rare in the posh range cooker with roasted spuds and leeks. Proper feast, enjoyed al fresco by the hot tub under the stars. Okay, it was more like a paddling pool with bubbles, but the jets made up for the chill. We even tried making Welsh cakes on the griddle – tailed off a YouTube tutorial. Dough was a bit sticky, but slathered in butter and damson jam from the market, they were divine.

Llandudno's food scene snuck up on me – unpretentious, hearty, and full of character. No fine dining fuss, just brilliant nosh that had us waddling home happy each night. Can't wait to go back and nail that laverbread next time.