I’ll never forget the drive down to that little corner of Mid Wales – or rather, the near-disaster that kicked it off. We’d piled into the car in Cardiff, me, my other half, and our excitable spaniel, Monty, with the sat-nav promising a breezy hour to Rhondda Cynon Taff. But oh no, halfway there, just past Pontypridd, I took a wrong turn onto some winding back lane that the GPS insisted was a shortcut. Cue Monty going berserk in the back, knocking over my thermos of tea which promptly soaked the picnic bag. By the time we’d mopped up the mess and argued over whose fault it was (mine, obviously), we were late, frazzled, and questioning why we hadn’t just stayed home with a Deliveroo.

Still, as we finally crested the hill and spotted the cottage nestled in the hills, all that arrival chaos melted away. What a belter of a first impression! Tucked right in the heart of Rhondda Cynon Taff, just a stone’s throw from the Bannau Brycheiniog National Park, it looked like the perfect hideaway – a smart three-bedroom place that screamed cosy getaway without trying too hard. We tumbled out of the car, Monty dragging me towards the door like he owned the place, and stepped inside to this proper homely living-dining room. Plush sofas begging you to flop down, a Smart TV ready for a binge-watch, and that warm, lived-in vibe that makes you exhale and think, “Yeah, we’ve arrived somewhere good.”

I won’t lie, after the road rage, I had a proper moment of gentle self-reflection while unpacking. Here I was, the self-appointed navigator who’d turned a simple drive into a soggy farce, yet staring out at those rolling Welsh hills from the window, I couldn’t help but chuckle. Sometimes you need a bit of mishap to appreciate the good bits, right? We cracked open a bottle of local cider – picked up from a farm shop en route – and just soaked it in. Monty claimed his spot by the radiator, tail thumping like a drum.

The next morning, with the chaos firmly behind us, we laced up our boots for a wander. A quick hop to the nearby trails in the Beacons had us puffing up Pen y Fan’s lower slopes – nothing too mad, just enough to earn a pub lunch at the Red Cow in nearby Hirwaun. Proper hearty stuff: lamb cawl and chips that hit the spot after our exertions. Back at the cottage, afternoons blurred into lazy games of Scrabble on those comfy sofas, or chucking a ball for Monty in the garden while the sun dipped behind the hills. One evening, we even spotted a buzzard circling overhead – pure magic, that.

It’s funny how a bumpy start can make the rest shine brighter. That three-bed gem was spot-on for us lot – room for the dog to sprawl, mates to crash, or just us two pretending we’re explorers. If you’re after a slice of South Wales countryside without the crowds, this is your spot. We left buzzing to return, mishaps and all.