I finally made it to Newport in Pembrokeshire after a bit of a faff on the road from Cardiff. We'd set off bright and early for our three-day family getaway at the Cosy Eco Cabin, me, the wife, and our two lads aged eight and ten, all crammed into the car with snacks and endless squabbles over iPads. But about halfway there, disaster struck – or rather, a rogue seagull decided to bomb the windscreen with what looked like an entire fish supper. "Brilliant," I muttered, pulling over near Fishguard for a frantic wipe-down with wet wipes and a half-empty water bottle. The kids thought it was hilarious, dubbing it "Gullmageddon," while I tried to play it cool, secretly fuming about my pride and joy of a car now resembling a Jackson Pollock.

By the time we trundled into Newport, the sun was dipping low over the Preseli Hills, casting that golden Welsh glow that makes you forget minor avian assaults. Newport itself is this cracking little coastal village, all rugged cliffs and salty air, with Carningli looming like a friendly giant in the distance. We followed the satnav down a narrow lane – classic Pembrokeshire, isn't it? – past a few sheep giving us the side-eye, until the Cosy Eco Cabin's wooden sign appeared like a beacon. Tucked away in a peaceful spot just a stone's throw from the village centre, it promised "cosy" and boy, did it deliver.

Pulling up, the first impression hit like a warm hug. The cabin sat there all snug and low-slung, surrounded by wildflowers and birdsong, with the sea's distant rumble as background music. No grand driveway, just a gravel patch where we parked amid a scatter of wellies and a rogue football from previous guests. The lads were out like a shot, whooping as they dashed to the little veranda, while I wrestled the luggage and a cool box of pasties from Newport's superb bakery – we'd grabbed them en route for that proper seaside tea.

Stepping inside was pure magic. The open-plan living space smelled of fresh wood and faint woodsmoke, with a wood-burning stove begging for a fire later. Compact but clever, it had a squishy sofa piled with blankets, a telly for rainy days (fingers crossed), and a kitchenette stocked with everything from cafetière to quirky mugs saying "Keep Calm and Have a Cuppa." The kids immediately claimed the bunk beds in their room – chaos ensued as they flung pillows and argued over who got the top bunk. "Dad, it's like a treehouse!" yelled the youngest, diving under the quilt. I chuckled, remembering my own childhood dens, and felt a quiet pang – when did they get so big?

First impressions extended outside too. That private hot tub on the deck? Game-changer. We fired it up straight away, bubbles churning as the sun set behind the hills, sipping elderflower pressé from the welcome basket. Newport's vibe seeped in immediately – a quick stroll down to the beach at Traeth Mawr, just a ten-minute wander away, had us skimming stones and dodging waves. The sand was gritty and perfect, with the lads building lopsided castles while we parents flopped on the pebbles, toes in the water. Back at the cabin, dinner was simple joys: frying up sausages on the hob, mashing spuds, and recounting the day's "adventures" – including my heroic gull battle, naturally embellished for laughs.

As night fell, we lit the stove, the crackle mixing with the lads' giggles over board games. No signal frenzy, just us, the cabin's glow, and stars peeking through the skylight. It was lodge life at its daftest – one kid spilling juice on the rug, the other hiding my specs – but that's the charm, isn't it? Amid the simple pleasures of this eco haven, I reflected gently: in our hectic world, these unhurried first hours felt like pressing reset. Newport's Cosy Eco Cabin? Already a firm favourite for family escapes. Can't wait for day two.