I’ll never forget the drive down to Saundersfoot – we piled into the car from Cardiff, kids buzzing in the back with crisps and iPads, me navigating via a dodgy phone signal. About halfway, just past Tenby, we hit a massive downpour that turned the A478 into a river. Cue a hilarious five-minute detour when I missed the turn-off, convinced we were heading for bloody Carmarthen instead. “Dad’s lost again,” the wife quipped, but we laughed it off, windows steaming up like a sauna. By the time we crested the hill into Saundersfoot, the rain had eased, and there it was: that classic Pembrokeshire sparkle over the sea. Heart lifted instantly.

Pulling up to our first-floor apartment, I was already buzzing with that holiday anticipation – you know, visions of sunsets and sandcastles. It’s one of those beautifully presented spots with a private balcony offering a teasing glimpse of the waves, dead handy for families like ours (and our well-behaved labrador, who’d been promised endless sticks). Stepping inside, the bright, airy open-plan living space hit the spot straight away: squashy sofas for movie nights, a kitchen stocked for fry-ups, and a dining table for four where we’d end up plotting the next day’s walks over fish and chips.

First full day, the weather gods smiled – blue skies, light breeze – so we legged it straight to Saundersfoot beach, barely a five-minute wander down the hill. Golden sands stretched out, perfect for a paddle and the dog’s zoomies. Feeling bold, we tackled the coastal path towards Coppet Hill, that gentle clifftop hike with panoramic views over the bay. It’s not too strenuous, maybe two miles out and back, but the fresh air and wildflowers had us grinning like idiots. I even managed a joggy bit, pretending I’m fitter than I am – gentle self-reflection there: must lay off the pub pints.

Come afternoon, classic British weather flipped the script. Clouds rolled in thick as fog, wind whipping up from the harbour. No chance for lolling on the beach, so we switched to the inland paths around Sunnyhill Wood, a sheltered loop through shady trails dripping with ferns. Muddy underfoot after the rain, but that earthy smell and birdsong? Pure magic. The kids splashed in puddles, turning it into an adventure quest, while I huffed up the slight inclines, realising I’m more dad-bod than trailblazer these days.

Next morning, more rain – horizontal this time – so we embraced the hygge vibe on the balcony, mugs of tea in hand, watching Saundersfoot harbour bob with fishing boats. Once it cleared (as it does), out for the Saundersfoot to Wiseman’s Bridge walk along the old railway track. Flat, easy-going, with sea views peeking through, and a cheeky ice cream stop at the end. The weather kept us on our toes: sunny spells for cliff-top gawps, sudden showers sending us scurrying under trees for giggles and soggy sandwiches.

By week’s end, those hikes – dodging downpours, chasing rainbows – made it unforgettable. Saundersfoot’s paths are a walker’s dream, weather and all. We left fitter, happier, already plotting a return. If you fancy coastal wanders with a cosy base, this is your spot.