I’ll never forget the drive up to our holiday cottage in North Wales – satnav on, tea thermos in hand, and me behind the wheel, chuffed to be escaping the daily grind. We’d taken the A55 from Chester, humming along to some cracking Radio 2 tunes, when disaster struck just past St Asaph. A rogue sheep decided to play chicken with the car, darting right in front. I slammed the brakes, heart in my mouth, and we ended up with a bit of a spin-out onto the verge. No harm done, thank goodness – just a sheepish grin from the farmer who waved us on – but it set the tone for a proper adventure. By the time we trundled down that narrow lane to the property, anticipation was buzzing; would it live up to the pics?

Pulling up, we were gobsmacked. This superb brick-built detached cottage, right on a working livestock farm, looked every bit the dream. One mile from Llannefydd village and five from Denbigh, it’s renovated to a high standard with its own hot tub, valley views stretching to the sea and coast. Inside, it was warm and welcoming – bright sitting room with a woodburning stove begging for a fire, modern kitchen/diner, three bedrooms with cracking country vistas, plus a shower room and ground-floor bathroom. First impressions? Spot on. We dumped the bags and cracked open a bottle of fizz on the patio, watching lambs frolic in the fields.

What turned this trip into magic, though, were the hidden gems we stumbled on by pure accident – proper off-the-beaten-track stuff, born from getting gloriously lost on those winding country lanes. First morning, fancying a wander, we aimed for Llannefydd but missed the turn (my map-reading skills, eh?). Instead, we ended up at a tucked-away spot called the Druid Inn – a cosy little boozer in the village with the friendliest locals, real ales on tap, and a ploughman’s that hit the spot. Chatting to the barman, he tipped us off about a footpath we’d never have found otherwise, leading to a wildflower meadow overlooking the valley. Sat there with butties, it felt like we’d nicked a secret from the landscape.

Next day, another wrong turn near Denbigh took us to a forgotten corner of the Clwydian hills – not the tourist trails, but a sheep-dotted bridleway to a ruined chapel, St Maethlu’s or something like that, half-buried in brambles. Wind whipping through, views for miles, and not a soul in sight. We picnicked there, laughing about how getting lost beats any guidebook. Even the hot tub became a hub for plotting: one evening, we veered off towards the farm’s back fields, discovering a wee pond teeming with dragonflies, perfect for a sunset dip (well, almost – too nippy!).

Reflecting on it now, as we drove home, I realised this is why we go on these jaunts. Not the Instagram spots, but the mishaps that unearth real treasures – those quiet North Wales nooks that make you feel alive. Getting lost? Best navigator upgrade ever. If you’re after proper country living, this corner’s a belter. Can’t wait to go back and lose ourselves again.