I finally made it to Oak View Lodge after what felt like the scenic route from hell, thanks to my sat-nav deciding to play silly buggers halfway through Somerset. Picture this: I'm trundling along those narrow lanes near Bridgwater, windows down, humming along to some cracking Radio 2 tunes, when the bloody thing pipes up, "Recalculating." Next thing I know, I'm staring at a cowpat-strewn farm track that wouldn't look out of place in a episode of Last of the Summer Wine. Heart in mouth, I reverse like a pro (well, almost – clipped a hedge on the way), and after a good five minutes of swearing under my breath, I spot the sign for Sedgemoor and breathe a massive sigh of relief. Three days in Somerset, and it was already shaping up to be an adventure.

Pulling up to Oak View Lodge just as the sun dipped low over the Quantock Hills – or at least the gentle bumps that pass for them around here – I was knackered but buzzing. The lodge is tucked away in a quiet spot off the beaten track, proper Somerset countryside vibes with fields stretching out and the odd tractor rumbling by. It's one of those cosy detached numbers, all low beams and welcoming charm, the kind of place that screams "put your feet up and forget the world." I fumbled with the key safe (note to self: always check the code twice), and in I went, dumping my bags in the hall with a thud that probably echoed to the neighbours – if there were any within shouting distance.

First impressions? Blimey, it was love at first sight. The open-plan living area hit me like a warm hug: plush sofas begging to be lounged on, a wood burner all set with logs (mental note: light that later for maximum hygge), and a kitchen that looked like it could whip up a full English without breaking a sweat. I cracked open the complimentary bottle of local cider – proper scrumpy stuff from a Sedgemoor orchard, I reckon – and poured a glass while taking it all in. The views through the French doors? Pure magic. Rolling green fields dotted with sheep, and in the distance, the faint outline of Glastonbury Tor peeking cheekily over the horizon, like Somerset's own mystical guardian. Not too far to nip over tomorrow, but right now, this spot felt like the centre of the universe.

Wandering upstairs, I chuckled at my reflection in the mirror – windswept hair from the farm track fiasco, cheeks flushed from the drive. The bedrooms were spot on: king-sized bed piled high with fluffy duvets, en-suite with a rainfall shower that promised to wash away any lingering travel woes. I flopped onto the bed for a mo, staring at the exposed beams overhead, and had one of those gentle "what am I doing with my life?" moments. Back home, it's all rush and deadlines; here, time just... slows. That sat-nav cock-up? Best thing that happened. It made the arrival feel earned, you know? Like stumbling into a hidden gem after a bit of a faff.

Stepping back out onto the private patio as dusk settled, I fired up the BBQ (gas, thank goodness – no faffing with charcoal after today's antics) and grilled some sausages I'd picked up from a farm shop en route. The air smelled of woodsmoke and fresh grass, birds twittering their goodnight chorus. A cheeky robin hopped onto the fence, eyeing my supper like it was invited. I raised my cider glass to it: "Cheers to first nights and second chances." Oak View Lodge had me hooked already – chaotic journey and all. Can't wait to see what tomorrow brings, but honestly, this first glimpse feels like the holiday highlight already.