I’ll never forget the drive up to Llandudno from Manchester – what should’ve been a straightforward hour and a half turned into a comedy of errors when my sat-nav decided to play silly buggers and sent us down a narrow lane that dead-ended at a sheep farm. There we were, me swearing under my breath (well, almost), the other half laughing her head off as we reversed out past a flock of unimpressed woollies. But honestly, that little mishap set the tone for the trip: off-the-beaten-track from the off, and we hadn’t even arrived yet.

By the time we pulled up, the anticipation had built into proper excitement. This quaint single-story annexe, built back in 1922, sat tucked away on the outskirts of Dolgarrog, right in the heart of Eryri National Park. Off-road parking sorted, we stepped out and just stood there, gobsmacked by the elevated views over the Conway Valley – peaceful fields stretching out between Dolgarrog and Trefriw, with not a hint of tourist bustle. Inside, it was all cosiness: a lovely four-poster double bed that screamed romance, and a bathroom with a proper bath and shower combo for soaking away the day’s adventures. Perfect for us two, though it’d suit kids or a dog just as well.

First impressions? Spot on. We dumped the bags and headed out, no grand plans, just a wander to see what we could stumble upon. That’s the magic of this spot – it’s close enough to Llandudno’s prom for a day trip if you fancy chips and arcade fun, but why bother when the real gems are hidden nearby? We took a wrong turn (deliberately, this time) down a leafy path from the village and ended up at a tucked-away waterfall you’d never find on a map app. Just us, the roar of the water, and a picnic of cheese pasties from the local shop. Pure bliss.

The next day, we got properly lost on footpaths snaking through the woods towards Trefriw – or was it back to Dolgarrog? Who cares? We discovered a forgotten woollen mill tearoom, the sort of place where the scones are still warm and the lady serving chats about the valley’s history like you’re old mates. No crowds, no queues, just cream tea heaven. Later, ambling back as the sun dipped, we found a hidden bench overlooking a babbling brook, ideal for a sneaky flask of tea. I sat there thinking, when did I last switch off like this? Work’s non-stop emails had me knackered, but getting lost here forced a proper reset – gentle reminder that the best bits of life aren’t signposted.

Evenings were for chilling at the annexe, cooking up a storm in the compact kitchenette, then crashing in that massive bed with valley views from the window. One night, we wandered to a quiet pub in Dolgarrog for a pint and a game of dominoes with locals – accidental mates over a pint of Conway ale. No neon lights, no Instagram hordes; just proper Welsh welcome.

Heading home, I was already plotting the return. Llandudno’s got its charms, but these hidden corners around here? They’re the real holiday gold. If you’re after romance or family downtime without the hordes, get yourself lost in the Conway Valley – you won’t regret it.