I’ll never forget the drive down to 7 Streamside near Looe – a proper Cornish jaunt that started with me taking a wrong turn just past Liskeard, ending up on some narrow lane that had me convinced we’d end up in a hedge. Picture it: me, white-knuckling the steering wheel of our hire car, swearing under my breath as the satnav threw a wobbly and directed us through Lanreath’s twisty backroads instead of the main drag. Classic me – always the one to turn a 30-minute journey into an hour-long adventure. But honestly, that little mishap was the best thing that could’ve happened, because it spat us out right at the doorstep of this adorable cottage, tucked away in a wooded valley that felt like it was hiding from the world.

Pulling up to 7 Streamside on that drizzly Friday afternoon, I was already smitten. It’s one of those proper hidden gems – a cosy two-bedroom stone cottage perched by a babbling stream, surrounded by nothing but birdsong and the rustle of ferns. No holiday park racket, no coachloads of tourists; just us, the dogs barking in the distance, and the scent of damp earth. We’d booked it on a whim for a three-day getaway, craving that off-the-beaten-track vibe Cornwall does so well. As I fumbled the key into the lock (another minor faff – it stuck a bit, naturally), the door swung open to reveal a lounge that screamed “kick back and forget the world”. Beamed ceiling, a wood burner begging for a fire, and mismatched armchairs that looked like they’d hug you for hours. The kitchen was tiny but brilliant – all retro crockery and a window overlooking the garden that tumbled down to the stream. First impressions? Pure bliss. I cracked open a pasty from the village shop en route and thought, “This is it, the proper Cornwall escape.”

But the real magic kicked in when we decided to ditch the map and just wander. That first evening, as the sun dipped low (well, tried to through the clouds), we followed the streamside path behind the cottage – a proper hidden gem I hadn’t clocked on the listing. It meandered through ancient woodland, ferns brushing our knees, with the water chuckling over mossy rocks. We stumbled on a tiny wooden footbridge I swear no one else knows about, perfect for perching with a thermos of tea. Light was fading, but there was this moment – a kingfisher darting across the water like a blue bolt – that had us grinning like idiots. “Lost and loving it,” I said to my other half, who just rolled her eyes at my enthusiasm. Humour in the mishaps, eh?

Saturday morning, we veered off another unmarked trail from the garden gate, ending up in a wildflower meadow that felt miles from anywhere, though it was barely a mile from Lanreath’s quiet pub. Picnicked on cheese pasties and local cider (nabbed from the honesty box at the farm gate we passed), spotting butterflies and not another soul. It was one of those gentle self-reflective spots – sitting there, I realised how knackered I’d been from city life, how getting properly lost like this resets the soul. No Instagram hotspots, just the thrill of accidental discovery: a forgotten orchard heavy with apples, a badger sett we nearly tripped over. Back at the cottage by tea time, we lit the fire and cooked up mackerel from Looe’s harbour (a quick five-minute drive away), the stream’s gurgle our soundtrack.

By Sunday checkout, I was plotting a return. 7 Streamside isn’t on the tourist trail – it’s the sort of place you find by happy accident, and it delivers those off-piste pleasures Cornwall hides so well. If you’re after getting lost in the best way, this is your spot. Proper gem.