I’ll never forget the drive down to Pembrokeshire – a proper British road trip, complete with sat-nav drama. We’d piled into the car in Cardiff, kids buzzing in the back with crisps and iPads, when halfway through, the heavens opened and my windscreen wipers gave up the ghost. Cue a frantic stop at a layby near Narberth, me faffing about with a spanner while rain hammered the roof. Half an hour later, we were back on track, hearts racing a bit, but the anticipation built as those rolling Welsh hills gave way to glimpses of the sea. By the time we trundled into Amroth village, I was grinning like an idiot – this was going to be brilliant.

Pulling up to the property, my first impressions were spot on: an outstanding reverse-plan place with breath-taking coastal views right there in the village. It’s the sort of spot you dream of for a family do – spacious, welcoming, with five brightly decorated bedrooms (two twins and three big doubles, all with luxury en-suites) downstairs, and then that carpeted staircase up to a contemporary open-plan living room flooded with light from skylights. Perfect for us lot – me, the wife, two teens, and my sister’s crew. We dumped the bags and cracked open a bottle of fizz on the balcony, watching the waves crash below. Couldn’t have asked for a better start.

The whole holiday revolved around walks, as you do in Pembrokeshire – that rugged coast path is calling your name from the moment you arrive. First full day, blue skies and not a cloud in sight, so we tackled the Amroth to Colby Woodland Garden trail. It’s a cracker: about four miles along cliffs with gulls wheeling overhead, wildflowers everywhere, and those telly-tubby hills rolling out to sea. The kids raced ahead, spotting seals bobbing in the bays, while we puffed along chatting nonsense. We picnicked on the beach at low tide, building lopsided sandcastles – pure joy. Back at the house, we sprawled in the living room, feet up, reliving the highlights over fish and chips.

But oh, the British weather – it’s got a wicked sense of humour. Next morning, gale-force winds and horizontal rain turned our grand plan for the Wiseman’s Bridge loop into a non-starter. “No chance,” I muttered, peering out the window. Instead, we layered up and did a shorter stomp along Amroth’s pebbly beach, hoods flapping like mad. The sea was wild, waves smashing in like they were auditioning for a disaster movie. We laughed our heads off dodging spray, the kids pretending they were explorers in a storm. It was bracing, character-building stuff – far better than being cooped up.

By the end of the week, after a mix of sunny cliff-top rambles to Telpyn Point and a few soggy beach scrambles, I had a proper moment of reflection on the balcony one evening. Staring out at the sun dipping into the sea, I thought, life’s too short not to chase these simple adventures, rain or shine. Pembrokeshire’s walks had us properly recharged – windswept, weary-legged, but buzzing. We’re already plotting a return. If you’re after coastal magic with the family, this corner of Wales won’t let you down.