I finally made it to that cosy 3 Bed Lodge in Broadwoodwidger after a bit of a faff on the drive down from Exeter. Picture this: I'm trundling along those narrow Devon lanes, radio blaring some rubbish pop tune, when I spot a cheeky pheasant darting across the road. I slam on the brakes, spill my flask of tea all over the passenger seat, and end up with a soggy lap and a mild case of the giggles. No harm done, just a classic Devon welcome – wildlife reminding you who's boss.

Pulling up to the lodge that first afternoon, I was chuffed to bits. Tucked away in this quiet spot near Broadwoodwidger, it's proper rural idyll: rolling fields, the odd sheep bleating in the distance, and that fresh country air that hits you like a pint of fresh cider. The place is spot-on for a self-catering getaway – a sturdy wooden lodge with a cracking kitchen that screamed "get cooking, mate." My first mission? Unpack the groceries I'd nabbed from the little market in nearby Lifton, just a few miles down the road. Nothing fancy, but their veg stall had the freshest carrots and spuds, plus some local cheeses that could make a saint weep with joy.

First impressions? Hunger. Starving after the drive, I cracked on with a spot of lunch right away. The lodge's kitchen is kitted out brilliantly – big fridge, decent oven, and all the pots you need. I rustled up a ploughman's from the market bounty: hunks of crumbly cheddar, pickled onions sharp enough to wake the dead, and a crusty baguette from Lifton's bakery. Sat at the wooden table by the window, munching away with a view of the garden, I felt like I'd won the lottery. Proper simple pleasures, that.

Come evening, I fancied something pubby. A quick scoot – well, walk, really, as it's dead close – to the Fox and Hounds in Broadwoodwidger. Blimey, what a gem. It's one of those timeless Devon boozers: low beams, roaring fire (even in summer, they love it), and locals nursing pints like old mates. I plonked down for fish and chips – proper cod, batter crispy as a autumn leaf, mushy peas on the side. Washed it down with a Ruby Red ale from the local Torridge Brewery. Chatted with the barman about the area's best pasty spots; he reckoned the market in Hatherleigh (just shy of five miles) does a mean one. Laughed about my tea-spilling fiasco, and he topped up my pint gratis. That's Devon hospitality for you.

Back at the lodge, bloated and buzzing, I eyed the kitchen for a nightcap experiment. Feeling a tad adventurous, I attempted a Devon cream tea twist with what was left from the market: sconces (scones to you southerners), clotted cream thicker than my wallet, and strawberry jam that tasted like summer in a jar. Slathered it on while bingeing a rubbish telly show. Burnt the first scone a smidge – rookie error, oven runs hot – but the second batch? Perfection. Sat there in the lounge, crumbs everywhere, reflecting on how daft it is that us city folk forget these basics. In the rush of life, when did I last faff about in a kitchen without a Deliveroo app? This lodge, with its no-fuss vibe, was already nudging me to slow down, savour the scoff, and not take it all so seriously.

Next morning – still day one, mind – I hit the Lifton market again for breakfast inspo. Grabbed bacon from the butcher's van, eggs from a farm stall, and some black pudding that'd make your arteries sing. Fried it all up in the lodge's sizzling pan, the smells wafting through the place like a hug from your nan. Ate on the patio, sun peeking over the hedges, planning the pub crawl ahead. That Fox and Hounds lunch special? Sunday roast, even though it was Saturday – they do what they like round here. Lamb shank, gravy like liquid gold, Yorkshire puds the size of hubcaps.

By tea time, I'd wandered to the Broadwoodwidger Arms for a cheeky pie. Steak and ale, pastry flaky as dreams, with chips that didn't need vinegar to shine. Paired with another local pint, it was the perfect first-day capper. This lodge isn't just a base; it's a foodie's haven, egging you on to cook, pub-hop, and market-mooch within a stone's throw. Three days in Devon? Off to a belly-full start. Can't wait for more.