I finally made it to Bracelands Safari Tent 4 in the Forest of Dean after a bit of a faff on the drive down from Gloucestershire. Picture this: I'm trundling along those narrow, twisting lanes near Coleford, radio blaring some classic Oasis, when – splash! – I hit a massive puddle that some cheeky tractor had left behind. My windscreen wipers went into overdrive, and I ended up looking like I'd just emerged from a car wash gone wrong, sopping wet from the spray. Laughable really, but it set the tone for a weekend where the British weather decided to be its unpredictable self, turning our plans into a proper adventure.

Pulling up to the safari tent late Friday afternoon, I was gobsmacked. Tucked away in Bracelands' glamping site, it's this massive canvas palace on a wooden deck, with a veranda overlooking the whispering woods. The Forest of Dean feels wild here – ancient oaks and ferns everywhere, proper Robin Hood territory. I dumped my bags, brewed a cuppa in the cosy kitchenette, and stepped out to breathe it all in. First impressions? Blissful isolation, but with that comfy tent vibe – double bed all kitted out, en-suite shower steaming up nicely, and a log burner ready for later. No signal on my phone, which was probably a blessing.

Saturday morning dawned bright and breezy, perfect for a hike. I laced up my boots and headed straight for the Wenchford trail, just a short stroll from the tent. It's one of those cracking Forest of Dean paths – about three miles of undulating woodland, following the River Wye's edge with cheeky dips into mossy gullies. The sun filtered through the canopy, turning everything golden, and I spotted a few fallow deer nibbling away, unperturbed by my amateurish puffing up the hills. Felt like a proper explorer, me against the trees. We picnicked by the water – cheese sarnies and flask of tea – laughing at how the midges were having a right go at my ankles. "Slap on more repellent, you muppet," I muttered to myself.

But oh, the weather – classic British twist. By noon, the sky turned moody, and fat raindrops started plopping down. Plans for a longer ramble to Symonds Yat? Scrapped. Instead, we dashed back to the tent, giggling like kids as we skidded on the muddy paths. Holed up inside, we cranked the log burner, played cards by lantern light, and watched the downpour drum on the canvas roof. It was unexpectedly brilliant – that forced cosiness, rain lashing outside while we sipped hot chocolate. Reminded me how I sometimes bulldoze through life chasing grand plans, forgetting to savour the soggy detours.

Sunday brought a misty drizzle, so we adapted with a shorter loop around Cannop Ponds, barely two miles from Bracelands. Boardwalks over the water, herons stalking fish, and that fresh post-rain earthy smell. The weather kept us on our toes – one minute drizzly, the next a sneaky sunbeam breaking through. We dodged puddles like pros, ending up back at the tent drenched but chuffed, drying off with mugs of builder's tea. Those hikes, weather-whipped as they were, captured the Forest of Dean's magic: raw, changeable, and utterly immersive right from your doorstep.

First impressions of Bracelands Safari Tent 4? It's the ideal base for weather-proof walking adventures – sturdy, scenic, and full of surprises. Three days in, and I'm already plotting a return, rain or shine.