I’ll never forget the drive down to Saundersfoot – we’d packed the car to the brim with beach gear and snacks, buzzing with that holiday anticipation, only for the sat-nav to chuck us into a proper rural detour. A wrong turn near Narberth had us bumping along a narrow lane that seemed to lead nowhere but a field of sheep giving us the side-eye. Half an hour later, laughing at our daftness, we finally rolled into the village, hearts lifting at the sight of the harbour twinkling in the late sun. First impressions? Spot on. Our first-floor apartment was this cosy seaside bolthole, perfect for me, my other half, and the two kids – light and airy with views that made you grin from the off.

Saundersfoot’s got that unhurried charm, but we didn’t stick to the postcard spots. No, our best bit was stumbling on hidden gems by pure accident, the kind you only find when you let yourself get properly lost. Day one, after a quick wander by the marina watching the fishing boats bob about, we veered off the main path onto the Coastal Path. Instead of the usual cliff-top strut, a sneaky sign for a "lesser-known cove" caught my eye. Down we went, scrambling over rocks, and blimey, there it was: a tiny, sheltered beach you could have all to yourself, with seals popping their heads up like nosy neighbours. The kids went wild paddling in rock pools teeming with crabs, while we cracked open flasks of tea. Pure magic, and not a soul in sight.

Next morning, fancying a change from the sandy main beach, we hopped in the car for a mooch inland – no plan, just vibes. Ended up lost down a winding lane that spat us out at this forgotten woodland spot, dead close to Colby Woodland Garden. It was like stepping into a secret fairy tale: babbling streams, bluebells everywhere (even out of season, somehow), and a hidden bench perfect for a picnic. We spent hours there, the little ones building stick forts while I reflected on how I’m always rushing about back home – this was my reminder to slow down, breathe the damp Welsh air, and just be. A gentle nudge from the universe, courtesy of a dodgy map app.

The real cracker came on our last full day. Aiming for Folly Farm – the kids were dead set on the zoo bit – we took a "shortcut" that had us meandering through Tenby’s back lanes instead. Skirted right past the castle ruins without even trying, and tumbled onto this wee harbour nook off the main drag. Fishermen mending nets, gulls squawking, and a chippy that did the crispiest battered sausage I’ve ever had. We sat on the sea wall, feet dangling, watching the world go by. No crowds, no fuss – just us discovering Saundersfoot’s quiet underbelly.

Getting lost turned out to be the holiday’s secret sauce. That apartment was our ideal launchpad, but it was those off-the-beaten-track finds that made it unforgettable. If you’re after proper relaxation with a side of adventure, pack your sense of direction loosely and head to Saundersfoot. You won’t regret it.