I’ll never forget the drive up to Orion in Northumberland – a proper faff from the off. We’d piled into the car in Morpeth, me, the missus, and our two lads, aged eight and ten, buzzing like they’d mainlined Irn-Bru. Sat-nav said 20 minutes tops to this cosy lodge we’d booked, but no, some numpty in a white van decided to play dodgems on the A1 slip road. Crunch – wing mirror pinged off like it was made of biscuit. “Dad, you’re rubbish at parking!” piped up little Jack from the back. Cheeky sod. Minor dent to the ego and the car, but we laughed it off, windows down, singing along to some dodgy 90s playlist as the rolling fields of Northumberland unfolded.

Pulling up to Orion just after lunch felt like stumbling into a hug. Tucked in a quiet spot near Morpeth, it’s one of those wooden lodges that screams “relax, you’ve arrived”. Picture this: low-slung roof, wraparound decking begging for a GandT at sunset, and a hot tub bubbling away like it knew we needed it. We tumbled out, bags everywhere, and the boys were off like rockets, whooping at the sight of the private garden. “Is this ours, Dad? All of it?” Yeah, mates, all yours – for three glorious days of lodge life chaos.

First impressions? Bloody heaven. Stepping inside, it was all warm wood panels, squishy sofas that swallowed you whole, and a kitchen that looked like it could handle a Full English for an army. No posh nonsense, just proper home-from-home vibes. I cracked open the complimentary tea and biscuits (cheers, Snaptrip), while Sarah unpacked. The lads claimed the bunk beds faster than you can say “top bunk’s mine!” Cue immediate squabbling – “No, I saw it first!” – and me playing referee with a mug of builder’s in hand. Classic family break, innit? That gentle pandemonium you secretly love.

We didn’t waste a minute. First job: fire up the BBQ on the deck. Northumberland air’s so fresh it makes your lungs tingle, and as the sausages sizzled, we just sat there, feet up, watching the boys chase each other round the garden. No screens, no schedules – just the simple pleasure of charring bangers and laughing at my dodgy tong skills. “You’ve turned them to carbon, Dad!” Brilliant. Then, hot tub time. Slipping in as the sun dipped low was pure bliss – jets pounding away the drive’s stresses, steam rising like a spa day on a budget. The boys splashed about like otters, Sarah and I clinked glasses of fizz, toasting nothing in particular. In that moment, staring at the darkening sky, I had a proper think. Life’s mad rush back home in the smoke – deadlines, school runs, the lot – it all melted away. Here we were, just us, in this little bubble of Northumberland peace. Felt a bit soppy admitting it, but yeah, we needed this more than we knew.

Evening drew in with a board game marathon inside. Orion’s lounge is ace for it – low lights, that wood-burner flickering (we didn’t even light it, too toasty). Monopoly turned into mild warfare, with accusations of hotel-hoarding flying thicker than the seagulls at Druridge Bay. Bedtime was a wrestle – “One more story!” – but soon enough, snores from the bunks and a hushed chat with Sarah on the sofa. First day done, and already I was plotting repeats: morning walks along the nearby paths, maybe a potter to Morpeth for pasties tomorrow. Orion wasn’t just a lodge; it was our reset button, all wrapped in that unpretentious Northumberland charm. Can’t wait to wake up to birdsong and brew number three.