I’ll never forget the drive up to Llanbedrog last month – me, the missus, and our two lads crammed into the car with enough crisps and Spotify playlists to survive a siege. We’d taken the scenic route along the coast from Pwllheli, windows down, sea breeze whipping through, when disaster struck: a wrong turn onto some narrow lane that had us convinced we’d ended up in a farmer’s private driveway. Turns out it was just one of those twisty North Wales backroads that look identical on Google Maps. Cue 20 minutes of me pretending I knew where I was while the satnav had a meltdown. Classic dad fail, but we laughed it off and stumbled right into our charming mid-terraced holiday cottage just as the sun dipped low over the bay.

First impressions? Blimey, it was love at first sight. This 1830s gem sits snug in the heart of the village, all cosy and inviting with its three comfy bedrooms sleeping five (plus a pull-out in the single for our youngest). The stylish kitchen had every gadget going, and the living room’s wood burner was begging for a fire that night. But the real stars? That private hot tub in the garden for soaking away the drive’s stress, and the games room where we sparked some epic pool and darts battles – I lost spectacularly to an eight-year-old, naturally.

What turned the trip into pure magic, though, was how we kept getting gloriously lost, unearthing hidden gems by accident. Our first wander was meant to be a quick stroll to the beach, but we veered off down a unmarked path behind the cottage and found ourselves at a secluded cove you won’t spot on any postcard. Crystal waves lapping at pebbled shores, not a soul in sight – just us building wonky sandcastles while seals bobbed offshore like nosy neighbours. Felt like we’d hacked the tourist map.

Next day, aiming for Llanbedrog’s main sands, we took a “shortcut” through the dunes that spat us out at an old smugglers’ path winding up to a clifftop viewpoint. Wind howling, views stretching to Abersoch, and a tiny tea hut tucked in the gorse serving the best bara brith I’ve ever scoffed. No crowds, no signs – pure serendipity. We even got lost on a cycle ride along the coastal path, ending up at a forgotten WWII lookout post half-buried in brambles. The lads turned it into a fort, and I had one of those dad moments: why do we always chase the big attractions when these secret spots recharge the soul?

Evenings were for hot tub dips under the stars, Netflix marathons, and reflecting on how getting lost beat any itinerary. North Wales has this knack for rewarding the wanderers. If you’re after off-the-beaten-track bliss in Llanbedrog, ditch the plans – just go, get muddled, and let the hidden corners reveal themselves. We’re already plotting a return.