I finally made it to Riverside Lodge after what felt like the daftest drive up from Pwllheli, my little hatchback groaning under the weight of hastily packed bags and a cool box that was already leaking melted ice. It was day one of my three-day jaunt in North Wales, and I'd set off full of beans, dreaming of cosy cottage vibes by the river. But no, typical me – about five minutes from the turn-off near Llanbedrog, I managed to splatter the windscreen with a rogue pasty from the petrol station. Cornwall pasty, mind you, because apparently North Walian ones weren't exotic enough for my pre-holiday snack attack. Cue five minutes of flailing with a tissue while swearing at the sat-nav lady who kept chirping "recalculating" like she was having a laugh.

By the time I crunched up the gravel drive to Riverside Lodge, I was a sweaty mess, pasty crumbs down my top, and convinced the holiday gods were testing me. The lodge itself sits right on the edge of the River Erch, just a stone's throw from Pwllheli's sandy beaches – proper postcard North Wales, with those rolling dunes and the sea winking in the distance. I parked wonkily (narrow spot, honest), grabbed my keys from the under-porch box, and fumbled the door open, half-expecting a family of otters to scamper out.

Blimey, what a belter. Stepping inside was like tumbling into a hug from an old mate. The open-plan living space opened up straight away – beamed ceiling, plush sofas in that lived-in tartan, and a wood-burner begging for a match even though it was a balmy afternoon. The kitchen was a dream: shiny Aga humming away, all the gadgets you need for knocking up a full Welsh breakfast, and a window over the sink framing the river rushing past like it was putting on a private show. I dumped my bags and just stood there, gobsmacked. After the drive's farce, this was pure balm.

First impressions? Spot on. The bedrooms were upstairs – mine had this massive window overlooking the garden sloping down to the water, with Egyptian cotton sheets that screamed "sink in and forget the world." The en-suite was compact but cracking, rainfall shower pummelling away the road dust in seconds. I chuckled to myself, thinking how I'd nearly bottled the whole trip after reading one dodgy review about "muddy tracks" – yeah, there was a bit of gravel, but it added to the rustic charm, didn't it?

Wandering out to the decking, cuppa in hand (proper builder's tea from the welcome pack – thoughtful touch), I plonked down on the benches and watched a heron stalk the shallows. The air was that crisp, salty tang you only get near the Llyn Peninsula, mixed with wild garlic from the banks. Kids from a nearby farm were whooping in the distance, and the lodge felt like a secret hideaway, tucked away yet minutes from Pwllheli's high street with its chip shops and independent cafes. No traffic hum, just birdsong and the gentle whoosh of the river – my blood pressure dropped ten points on the spot.

That little mishap on the road? It made the arrival all the sweeter, a reminder that life's best bits come after the faff. Sat there as the sun dipped, painting the water gold, I had a proper moment of self-reflection: when did I last switch off like this? Work's been a grind, emails pinging like fireworks, but here, with the lodge wrapping around me like a favourite jumper, I felt properly present. First impressions don't get much better – chaotic start and all, Riverside Lodge had me hooked before I'd even unpacked the wine. Can't wait to see what days two and three bring, but right now, this is North Wales magic at its finest.