I finally made it to Coleridge Premier after a bit of a faff on the drive down from Bristol. We'd set off bright and early for our three-day jaunt in Devon, the kids buzzing in the back with their crisps and iPads, my wife Sarah navigating via her phone. But about 20 minutes from Axminster, I took a wrong turn onto some narrow lane that looked promising on the map but turned out to be a proper Devon single-track nightmare. Cue the classic comedy moment: me reversing into a hedge while a local farmer in a Land Rover waited patiently behind, giving me that polite-but-exasperated nod through his windscreen. "Blimey, mate," I muttered, cheeks burning, as Sarah stifled a laugh and the kids chanted "Daddy's lost again!" We extricated ourselves with minimal scratches to the car (or my ego), and 10 minutes later, we were trundling up the quiet road to the cottage, the rolling East Devon hills unfolding like a postcard.

Pulling into the drive of Coleridge Premier felt like arriving at a secret hideaway. Tucked just outside Axminster, this Premier lodge is the sort of place that screams relaxed family escape – wooden-clad, cosy, and surrounded by lush green fields that stretch out towards the River Axe valley. No grand manor house here; it's proper lodge life, with that inviting porch light glowing even in daylight. We tumbled out of the car, stretching our legs after the two-hour drive, and the fresh country air hit us like a tonic. The kids, aged 8 and 10, immediately dashed off to explore the garden, whooping as they discovered a little wooden swing hanging from an old oak. Sarah and I just stood there for a sec, bags half-unpacked, grinning at each other. "This is it," she said. "Proper downtime."

Stepping inside for those first impressions, it was love at first sight – or should I say, first creak of the floorboards. The open-plan living area is spot on for a family: squishy sofas piled with cushions, a wood-burning stove begging for an evening fire (we didn't light it yet, but I could already picture the toasty chaos), and a kitchen that's kitted out with everything from cafetière to kids' plastic plates. I brewed a quick cuppa while Sarah unpacked, and we gathered round the oak table for our arrival ritual: unpacking the picnic we'd grabbed from a farm shop en route. Cheese ploughman's, local cider for us, apple juice for the nippers – simple pleasures that taste a million times better after a road mishap.

The bedrooms sealed the deal. Ours was upstairs, with a super-king bed that looked like it could swallow you whole, views over the fields, and an en-suite that was surprisingly swish for a lodge – rainfall shower included. The kids' room had bunk beds (cue excited shrieks) and twin singles, all crisp linen and fluffy pillows. We let them bounce around while we poked about the rest: utility room with a dryer (vital for Devon's unpredictable weather), and a ground-floor double for hypothetical nan visits. Outside, the patio was perfect for al fresco brekkies, with a charcoal BBQ and those unbeatable views – sheep dotting the hills, birdsong everywhere. No traffic hum, just the distant low of cattle.

That first afternoon, we embraced the lodge chaos proper. The kids dragged out the board games from the cupboard (Monopoly, naturally, leading to my swift bankruptcy and mock tears), while Sarah and I lounged on the terrace with mugs of tea, watching clouds scud by. A light drizzle pattered down – classic Devon – but it just added to the hygge vibe, hunkering inside with hot chocolate. Dinner was easy: pie from the nearby Axminster deli (their pasties are legendary), wolfed down amid stories of my hedge heroics.

As the sun dipped low, painting the valley gold, I had a quiet moment of self-reflection on the sofa, kids conked out early. Here we were, miles from the daily grind, in this little Devon haven. Life's too short not to chase these simple joys – a wrong turn, a cosy lodge, family giggles. Coleridge Premier? Spot on for recharging the batteries. Can't wait for day two.