I’ll never forget the drive up to Llandudno – we’d packed the car to the roof with wellies, waterproofs, and enough snacks to feed a small army, only for the sat-nav to chuck us into a cheeky traffic jam just outside Colwyn Bay. A lorry had decided to have a lie-down across the road, and there we were, drumming our fingers on the steering wheel, fantasising about fish and chips. But honestly, it built the anticipation perfectly; by the time we rolled into town, the sun was peeking through the clouds over the bay, and Llandudno looked like a proper seaside gem, all Victorian grandeur and sparkling sea.

Pulling up to this cracking Victorian house – a proper three-storey beauty with seven bedrooms, done up in that elegant period style but with all the mod cons – we were gobsmacked. It’s got this lush private garden with a hot tub (which we eyed up immediately), two cosy sitting rooms, a big dining space, and a kitchen/diner that’s a dream for knocking up group meals. Downstairs, there’s even a king-size bedroom and a cloakroom, with loads of en-suites upstairs. First impressions? Spot on for our big family gathering – felt like we’d stepped into our own little slice of luxury right in the heart of it all.

We’d come for the walks, you see. Llandudno’s got some belters on its doorstep, and with the Orme right there, we were itching to get our boots on. Day one, the weather gods smiled: bright blue skies, not a breath of wind. We headed straight for the Great Orme headland, that massive limestone lump looming over the town. The toll road’s an easy start, but we parked up and tackled the zigzag path on foot – steep but stunning, with puffin-spotting cliffs and wild goats ambling about like they own the place. Two hours up, lungs burning, rewarded with panoramic views over the bay, Anglesey in the distance, and the Irish Sea glittering like a million diamonds. We picnicked at the top, feeling like proper explorers. Bliss.

But oh, British weather – it’s got a wicked sense of humour. Next morning, we planned the full Orme circuit: down to the West Shore beach, along the sands, then up the cliffs for those epic sea views. Cue biblical rain. Sheets of it, horizontal and relentless. Our waterproofs held, but the paths turned to slippy mudslides. We laughed it off (mostly), splashing through puddles like daft kids, but ditched the full loop for a soggy stomp along the North Shore prom instead. Pier in sight, candy floss calling – turned into a hilarious arcade dash, dripping wet and stuffing ourselves with doughnuts. Proper character-building stuff.

By day three, the clouds lifted just enough for the Little Orme hike – shorter, sweeter, with hidden coves and seabird colonies. We wandered the coastal path, spotting seals bobbing offshore, the town twinkling below. Rain threatened again, but we outran it back to the garden hot tub, steaming away the chill with cups of tea. Reflecting on it now, sat in one of those plush sitting rooms, I reckon that’s the magic of Llandudno walks: they flex with the weather, turning potential washouts into the best stories. We’d nailed sunny triumphs and rainy romps, and honestly, it made me appreciate how a bit of unpredictability keeps holidays alive. Can’t wait to go back – next time, I’m packing extra socks.