I’ll never forget the drive up to our little holiday spot in North Wales – we’d been buzzing with excitement all morning, dreaming of cosy nights in and lazy days out, but then disaster struck just outside Wrexham. The satnav decided to have a midlife crisis, directing us down a narrow farm track that turned into a muddy quagmire after last night’s rain. There we were, me and Sarah, a couple of middle-aged softies from the Midlands, sliding about like we were in a rally car, hearts in our mouths, laughing hysterically as we reversed out with the help of a bemused farmer on his tractor. “Welcome to Wales,” I chuckled, wiping mud off the windscreen.

By the time we arrived in Llangollen, the sun was peeking through the clouds, and our first glimpse of the place had us grinning like kids. It’s this gorgeous luxury conversion of a 17th-century dairy and grain store, all snug and stylish with a private enclosed garden and a bubbling hot tub – perfect for a romantic escape for two, though we’re more of a comfy couple than full-on lovey-doveys these days. We dumped our bags and cracked open a bottle of fizz on the patio, soaking in those cracking first impressions: the garden felt like our own secret hideaway, birds chirping away, and that hot tub calling our names after the drive.

We wasted no time diving into the simple pleasures. A gentle stroll along the Llangollen Canal was first up – hand in hand, watching the narrowboats chug by, and we even hopped on the horse-drawn one for a lazy half-hour potter. Pure bliss, with the water lapping and not a care in the world. Later, we wandered into town, just a short walk away on the River Dee. Llangollen’s got this brilliant vibe: quirky independent shops, cosy cafes where we scoffed Welsh cakes with our tea, and pubs serving up hearty bowls of cawl that warmed us right through. We treated ourselves to a ride on the steam train, puffing along the valley, windows down, feeling like we’d stepped back in time.

The countryside was our playground too. One morning, we ambled over to the golf course nearby – I’m rubbish at it, mind, but Sarah nailed a few putts while I provided comic relief with my wild swings. Fishing on the river was next; we didn’t catch much beyond a couple of tiddlers, but the peace of it, rods in hand with the sun on our faces, was worth every missed bite. We saved the hot tub for evenings, sinking in with a GandT, watching the stars pop out over the hills. Fabulous walks galore – easy riverside paths one day, a cheeky hill trail the next, getting just enough of a puff on without overdoing it.

We popped over to Pontcysyllte Aqueduct, that engineering marvel within a few miles, tiptoeing across like it might wobble (it didn’t), and Chirk Castle for a mooch around the gardens – National Trust perfection without the crowds. It’s an all-year spot, this, but autumn’s golden hues made it magical.

Looking back, amid the cottage life chaos – like when the washing machine rebelled and flooded the utility room, leaving us mopping up in our pyjamas – it was a gentle nudge that we don’t need grand adventures anymore. Just us, some laughs, and these quiet North Wales joys. We left feeling recharged, already plotting our return.