I’ll never forget the drive down to our holiday spot near Felindre Farchog in Pembrokeshire – a proper Welsh adventure from the off. We’d piled into the car in Cardiff, kids buzzing in the back with crisps and iPads, me at the wheel dreaming of coastal paths and fresh air. But halfway through, just past Narberth, the sat-nav decided to throw a wobbly and sent us down a narrow lane that turned into a muddy track. Heart in mouth, I reversed us out of a puddle the size of a small pond, laughing it off with the family while secretly cursing my tech reliance. Still, by late afternoon, we rolled up to this cracking detached house, nestled in the countryside with the coast feeling tantalisingly close. First impressions? Spot on – ample parking, a massive garden begging for games of chase, and that welcoming vibe that screams “relax here”.

The place was perfect for us four – cosy kitchen/diner to sort brekkies, and space to sprawl. I’d been itching for walks since booking, Pembrokeshire’s trails being legendary, and with Newport just a couple of miles away, we were spoilt. Day one dawned bright, so we headed straight out for the coastal path from Newport to Traeth Mawr beach. What a cracker – undulating cliffs, gorse buzzing with bees, and views over Cardigan Bay that had us stopping every five minutes for selfies. The kids scampered ahead, spotting seals bobbing offshore, while I puffed along feeling smugly virtuous. We picnicked on pasties from the Newport bakery, sand between toes, proper summer idyll.

But oh, the British weather – it’s got a wicked sense of humour, doesn’t it? Next morning, grey clouds rolled in like uninvited guests, and by breakfast, it was chucking it down. Plans for a long hike to Fishguard’s harbour dashed, we pivoted to the Preseli Hills inland, closer to home base. Waterproofs on, we tackled a shorter loop through the woods at Coed y Brenin – or at least something similar nearby – the rain turning the paths into slippy slides. I went arse-over-tit on a muddy incline, which had everyone in stitches, me included. Emerging drenched but grinning, we warmed up with tea and Welsh cakes back at the house. It forced us to slow down, chat more, appreciate the garden shelter as a soggy playground.

By mid-week, the sun peeked out again, and we nailed a beauty: the Pembrokeshire Coast Path from Ceibwr Bay, just up the road. Steep scrambles down to hidden coves, wildflowers nodding in the breeze, and that fresh sea tang. Even the drizzle later couldn’t dampen it – we just layered up and carried on, turning into a family of hardy hikers. Reflecting on it now, those weather flips were the real magic; they taught me to ditch the rigid itinerary and embrace the chaos. No Instagram-perfect days, just real ones. If you’re after walks that mix epic highs with soggy laughs, this corner of Pembrokeshire’s your spot – we’re already plotting a return.