I’ll never forget the drive down to that gorgeous 16th-century farmhouse near Pontypridd – the sat-nav decided to have a midlife crisis just as we hit the winding lanes above the valleys, sending us on a daft detour through a muddy farm track. Hearts in mouths, we emerged unscathed, but with the car looking like it’d been mud-wrestling. Still, as we pulled up, the anticipation melted away. There it was, this lovingly converted beauty perched peacefully with those breathtaking valley views, promising the ultimate Welsh welcome. First impressions? Spot on – spacious, luxurious, and brimming with charm.

We’d booked it for a family get-together, perfect for 10 of us, and from the off, it felt like home. The kitchen/diner stole the show straight away – that massive handmade timber table, wood-burning stove flickering away, and all the mod cons for serious cooking. We dove right in, unpacking bags of local goodies from Pontypridd market, just a short drive down the hill. Fresh Welsh cheeses, crusty bara brith, and plump leeks – I could’ve wept with joy. My attempt at cawl, the classic lamb stew, was a right laugh. I followed a recipe to the letter, but forgot to soak the veg properly, so it came out a bit al dente. Everyone politely munched through it, stifling grins, and we topped it off with homemade scones slathered in clotted cream from a nearby farm shop. Proper feeding frenzy.

Evenings were all about the pubs nearby – there’s a cracking one in Pontypridd, just five minutes away, with the best pints of Brains SA and hearty bowls of faggots and peas that hit the spot after a day pottering about. We’d pile into the two sitting rooms afterwards: the traditional one with its huge inglenook and woodburner for cosy chats over board games, or the modern lounge for a DVD and a nightcap from the walk-in cold room (genius for chilling our craft ciders). One night, I tried my hand at a full Welsh breakfast for 12 – cockles from Cardiff market (a quick 20-minute zip), laverbread, bacon from the butchers – it was chaos, with sausages sizzling everywhere, but the cheers made it worth the fry-up frenzy.

Markets were our daily pilgrimage. Pontypridd’s got that vibrant buzz on Saturdays – stalls heaving with bara lawr (laverbread cakes), fresh cockles straight from the sea, and artisan breads. We’d load up on tattws (potatoes) and cauliflowers for roast dinners, then experiment back at base. The bunk-bed room kids loved raiding the fridge for midnight cheese raids, while us lot lounged in the plush bedrooms, master with its en-suite views making morning coffee feel posh.

Cooking there sparked a bit of self-reflection, mind. I’m usually a takeaways man, but wrestling with that stove and fresh local produce made me realise how much joy there is in faffing about in a proper kitchen. No more lazy ready meals for me – well, maybe sometimes. The farmhouse’s boot room came in handy for washing up after our messy feasts, and that ground-floor shower room was a godsend for quick freshens before pub crawls.

We left stuffed to the gills, hearts full from valley views and belly laughs over burnt toast mishaps. If you’re after a South Wales stay where food’s the star, this is it – pure bliss.