I’ll never forget the drive down to Pembrokeshire – a proper British road trip, complete with sat-nav faffing out just as we hit the twisty lanes near Haverfordwest. We’d been buzzing with anticipation, dreaming of that first glimpse of the coast, but no, I managed to take a wrong turn and ended up in a muddy farm track, wheels spinning like a scene from a bad comedy. A quick reverse and a sheepish laugh later, we were back on track, hearts racing a bit more than planned.

Pulling up to our countryside geodome in quiet Nolton felt like stepping into a hidden gem. Tucked away in this serene spot along St Bride’s Bay, it’s the ultimate bolthole for couples – all curved glass and cosy vibes, blending right into the rolling fields. First impressions? Magic. The sea air hit us immediately, and from the deck, you could almost hear the waves whispering promises of adventure.

We couldn’t wait to hit the Pembrokeshire Coast Path, which snakes right through nearby Nolton Haven. Day one, the weather gods smiled: blue skies, a gentle breeze, perfect for our first hike. We ambled down to the golden sands of Nolton Haven, just a couple of miles away, boots crunching on shingle as seals bobbed offshore. It was pure bliss – clifftops carpeted in wildflowers, gulls wheeling above, and not a soul in sight. We pushed on towards Newgale, about four miles along the path, where the beach stretched out like a welcome mat, clear waters sparkling. I felt a proper sense of peace there, reflecting on how we city folk so rarely switch off. Who knew a good leg-stretch could sort out all those nagging work thoughts?

But oh, the British weather – it’s got a wicked sense of humour. Next morning, we woke to lashing rain and a wind that howled like it had a grudge. Our grand plan for a full coastal trek to Broad Haven? Scrapped. Instead, we layered up in waterproofs and embraced the sogginess, turning it into a muddy mission. The path turned into a slip-and-slide, puddles deep enough to lose a welly in, but laughing through the downpour made it epic. We stuck closer to home, looping from the geodome to Nolton Haven’s cliffs – only a short stomp, but the drama of waves crashing against rugged stacks was unreal. Dodging squalls, we spotted choughs darting about and rabbits scarpering into the gorse. By the end, soaked to the skin, we collapsed back at the dome with hot tea, grinning like idiots.

A couple of days later, the sun peeked out again, teasing us with another hike. We retraced steps to Newgale, this time in golden light, the sea calmer and inviting a paddle (brr, bracing!). The weather flips kept us on our toes – one minute basking, the next battening down – but that’s the joy of Pembrokeshire walks. No two days the same, each trail a new story.

Looking back, that geodome stay was spot-on for recharging. The hikes, rain or shine, reminded me life’s too short for fair-weather plans. If you fancy ditching the grind for coastal paths and changeable skies, Nolton’s your spot. We’re already plotting a return.