I’ll never forget the drive down to Pembrokeshire – a proper British road trip, innit? We piled into the car in the Midlands, full of excitement about our barn stay in this quiet spot called Upper Nash, just outside Lamphey. But about halfway, disaster struck: a massive downpour turned the M4 into a car park, and then I missed the turning for the A477 because I was too busy faffing with the sat-nav. We ended up looping round some back lane near Cosheston, laughing our heads off as the windscreen wipers battled the rain. By the time we arrived, we were knackered but buzzing with anticipation – would this former cowshed-turned-stylish barn live up to the pics?

First impressions? Spot on. Tucked away in a peaceful hamlet, two miles from Pembroke, it felt like our own little haven. Cosy, welcoming, with everything you need after a soggy drive. We dumped the bags and cracked open a cuppa, peering out at the fields rolling towards the coast. Perfect for lacing up the boots and hitting the Pembrokeshire Coast Path, which skirts right by Lamphey. That’s what we’d come for – hikes galore, come rain or shine.

Day one, the weather gods smiled: blue skies, not a cloud in sight. We set off along the path towards Manorbier, just three miles away. Golden sands at Freshwater East twinkled below, and the cliffs were alive with gulls wheeling overhead. It was pure magic – puffins nesting in the cracks (or so we told ourselves), wildflowers nodding in the breeze. We wandered for hours, stopping for a picnic of pasties from the village shop. Felt like we’d stepped into a postcard. That evening, back at the barn, legs aching in the best way, we raised a glass to proper Welsh coastal bliss.

But oh, the British weather – it’s got a wicked sense of humour. Next morning, the forecast promised sun, so we headed out ambitious: a loop along the path towards the Lamphey dunes. Halfway, the heavens opened. Proper biblical stuff – sideways rain that turned the trail into a stream. We squelched on, hoods up, giggling like kids as waves crashed dramatically below. Ended up sheltering in a cove near Milton, munching damp sandwiches and watching the storm roll out to sea. Plans changed on a dime: instead of pushing to Manorbier Castle, we cut short and dashed to a cosy pub in Lamphey for chips and a pint. Sometimes the bad weather hikes are the best stories.

By mid-week, I had a proper moment of reflection, sat on the barn’s patio as the sun broke through again. Staring out over those misty fields, I realised how these walks – the sunny strides and the soggy slogs – strip everything back. No signal half the time, just you, the path, and the relentless sea. It’s humbling, makes you appreciate the simple joy of moving your feet. We squeezed in one more golden-evening hike to the Freshwater West beach, dodging rock pools and seals, before the weather teased us with drizzle.

Pembrokeshire’s Coast Path is a walker’s dream, whatever the skies throw at you. That barn in Upper Nash? Absolute gem for it. If you fancy ditching the daily grind for mud, mist, and maybe a rainbow or two, get yourself down there. We’re already plotting the return.