I finally made it to Barmouth after a bit of a faff on the A496 – nothing major, just a rogue seagull deciding my windscreen needed a fresh coat of paint right as I turned off from Llanbedr. Proper Welsh welcome, that was. I'd booked Sunset Lodge 5 for a quick three-day jaunt, craving that cosy cottage vibe by the coast, and from the moment I pulled up, it felt like the perfect spot to unwind with some proper scran and a pint or two.

The lodge itself is a gem, tucked just a short hop from Barmouth's sandy beach, all wood-beamed charm and sea views that hit you like a warm hug. I arrived mid-afternoon, starving after the drive, so first job was unpacking the boot and sussing out the kitchen. It's kitted out nicely – decent oven, a fridge that actually chills, and a hob that doesn't fight you. I'd stopped at the little market in Llanbedr on the way (couldn't resist their fresh veg stall), grabbing Welsh cheeses, crusty bread, and a punnet of local tomatoes that smelled like summer. My plan? Whip up a simple lunch to christen the place. Cheese on toast, but posh-like, with a dollop of chutney from the pantry. Turned out alright, though I nearly set off the smoke alarm when I got distracted by the view. First impressions: this kitchen's begging for some experimental cooking, and I'm here for it.

Wandering down to Barmouth proper that evening – it's only a mile or so along the coast path, easy stroll with the sea breeze nipping at your heels – I hit the jackpot with the food scene. Popped into the local market near the high street first thing, where they've got stalls groaning under piles of cockles straight from Cardigan Bay, glistening and fresh as you like. Snagged a bag for a tenner, plus some bara brith from a baker who swore it was the real deal. Back at the lodge, I steamed the cockles with garlic and a splash of white wine I'd brought along. Messy business, mind – half of 'em ended up on the floor thanks to my amateur shelling skills – but blimey, they were lush, dipped in bread to mop up the juices. Paired it with a cheeky local ale from the fridge, and sat on the deck watching the sun dip behind the dunes. Sunset Lodge lives up to its name, that view turning the sky all pink and orange. Pure magic.

Next morning, breakfast was a right laugh. I'd eyed up the farm shop en route yesterday, so armed with smoked bacon rashers, free-range eggs from happy Gwynedd hens, and a loaf of granary bread, I attempted the full Welsh fry-up. Now, I'm no Gordon Ramsay, but flipping eggs in a strange pan while trying not to burn the bacon? Comedy gold. One yolk exploded like a mini volcano, leaving me giggling and scraping bits off the hob. Still, it tasted brilliant – that salty bacon crunch with yolk dripping everywhere, washed down with a mug of strong builder's tea. First impressions of the lodge's dining nook? Cosy as owt, with the sea twinkling outside the window, making even my culinary disasters feel like gourmet experiences.

Lunch took us to the Harbour Tavern, a proper Barmouth boozer right by the estuary, walls plastered with fishing nets and old photos. I went for the fish and chips – haddock landed that morning, batter crisp as a fresh £20 note, mushy peas on the side that were spot-on. Pint of Brains Bitter to match, naturally. Chatted with the barman about local catches; turns out the cockles I had last night were from the very same bay. Afternoon snack back at the lodge: that bara brith with a slab of caerphilly cheese. Dense, fruity, and just sweet enough – my cooking attempt of the day was slicing it without crumbs everywhere.

Evening called for the Last Inn, another cracking pub a stone's throw away, where the specials board screamed fresh seafood chowder and lamb hotpot. I plumped for the chowder, thick with prawns and smoked fish, crusty roll for dunking. Washed it down with a Gwynedd craft cider, sharp and fizzy. Staggered back to Sunset Lodge under starry skies, belly full, reflecting gently on how these simple meals – markets, pubs, my own botched efforts – grounded me after months of city rush. No fancy restaurants needed; Barmouth's food heart beats strong, and this lodge is the ideal base to savour it. Can't wait for day two's feasts.