We’d only just pulled into Tenby when the satnav decided we were already at our destination, right in the middle of a roundabout. After a bit of flustered reversing and some choice words from my other half, we eventually found the little lane that led to our 4 Bed Cottage. The first thing that struck me was how close it felt to the beach; a five-minute stroll and we were kicking off our shoes on the sand, the sea air already doing its best to blow the journey out of us.

Our plan for the afternoon had been a proper coastal walk along the cliffs towards Saundersfoot, but the sky had other ideas. One minute it was blue and hopeful, the next the clouds rolled in with that classic British enthusiasm for dampening spirits. We shrugged, grabbed our jackets, and set off anyway, figuring a bit of drizzle never hurt anyone. The path hugged the headland with views that kept stopping us in our tracks; gulls wheeling below, the odd fishing boat bobbing on the grey-green water, and the promise of fish and chips waiting back in town.

By the time we reached the little cove just beyond the harbour, the rain had eased into something almost pleasant, the kind that makes everything smell fresh and salty. We perched on a low wall, watching a family with two excitable spaniels chase a ball along the shoreline. It struck me then how rarely we slow down like this at home, always rushing between one thing and the next. Here, with nowhere particular to be, even a change of weather felt like part of the adventure rather than a nuisance.

Back at the cottage that evening, sandy feet and slightly windswept hair, we realised we’d barely unpacked. The garden caught the last of the sun, and we sat out with mugs of tea, listening to the distant wash of the tide. Tomorrow we’d try the cliff path again, maybe head the other way towards Lydstep, but for now the mishap on the roundabout and the unexpected shower had already given us the sort of day that sticks in the memory longer than any perfectly blue-sky itinerary.