I finally made it to The Hexham Spa after a bit of a faff on the drive up from Newcastle. I'd set off full of beans, playlist blasting some classic Britpop, only for the satnav to chuck a wobbly just past Corbridge – directing me down a narrow farm track that turned into a muddy quagmire after five minutes. Sod's law, innit? There I was, reversing out like a learner driver, splattered in muck and cursing under my breath. A quick detour through Hexham's bustling market square sorted it, and soon enough I was pulling up to this cracking little stone cottage tucked away in a quiet corner of town, no more than a stone's throw from the River Tyne.

First impressions? Blimey, it was love at first sight. The Hexham Spa isn't your bog-standard holiday let – it's got this lush private hot tub out the back, steaming away invitingly even in the drizzle, and inside it's all cosy beams, fluffy towels, and a telly bigger than my flat's. I dumped my bags, cracked open a brew, and gazed out the window at the rolling hills beyond Hexham Abbey's spire. Northumberland's got that proper wild beauty, hasn't it? But I was here for three days of proper walking adventures, lacing up my boots and ready to tackle the trails. Weather, though – that's the real star of any British jaunt.

Day one dawned bright and breezy, perfect for a stomp up to The Sele, the Iron Age hillfort right on Hexham's doorstep. It's barely a couple of miles out, but the views over the Tyne Valley are mint – green fields stretching out like a patchwork quilt, with Hadrian's Wall just teasing on the horizon. I puffed up the path, past grazing sheep that eyed me suspiciously, feeling like a proper explorer. Light-hearted skip in my step, snapping pics of buzzards wheeling overhead. Lunch was a pork pie from the local butcher, scoffed on a bench with the spa cottage winking back at me below. Thought to myself, "This is the life – no emails, just fresh air and freedom."

But oh, the British weather, that cheeky sod. By afternoon, the skies turned moody, fat raindrops plopping down as I headed for the riverside paths along the Tyne. Plans for a longer loop to the Roman site at Corbridge? Scrubbed. Instead, I dashed back, laughing at my soaked socks, and plunged into the hot tub. Steamy bliss under the downpour – who needs a gym when you've got this? It was one of those moments that makes you reflect: life's too short for rigid itineraries. Sometimes the best adventures are the ones that force you to adapt, like a soggy dog shaking itself off.

Day two, the forecast promised sun, so I was out early for the Hadrian's Wall trail snippet from Hexham – a gentle five-mile there-and-back along the vallum ditch, with those iconic crags looming close. Blue skies at first, skylarks trilling, and I proper lost myself in the rhythm of the hike, wind whipping my hair. Pub lunch at a cosy Hexham boozer, ploughman's and a pint of local ale, toasting the Romans. But wouldn't you know, by teatime the clouds rolled in thick as clag, turning the return leg into a slippery scramble. Visibility down to nil, me slipping on wet grass like Bambi on ice. Chuckled to myself – classic Northumberland, lulling you in then slapping you with a squall. Back at the cottage, I thawed out in the spa, bubbles fizzing away the chill, pondering how these weather whims make the good bits shine brighter. It's humbling, innit? Reminds you nature's boss.

Third day wrapped with a short jaunt through Hexham's parks to the Devil's Water viewpoint, misty and magical despite the mizzle. The Hexham Spa had well and truly won me over – that hot tub became my rainy-day hero, and the walks, weather be damned, etched proper memories. If you're after a Northumberland getaway that's equal parts hike, soak, and surprise showers, this is your spot. Can't wait to go back.