I’ll never forget the drive to Caldey Lodge at Bier Wood Lodges in Saundersfoot – it was one of those classic Welsh holidays that kicked off with a proper faff, but ended up being pure magic from the moment we tumbled out of the car.

We’d set off from home early, me behind the wheel of our trusty old Fiesta, sat-nav chirping away like it knew best. The plan was simple: zip down the M4, hop onto the A477, and bob’s your uncle, we’d be sipping tea in our lodge by lunchtime. Ha! Fat chance. About five miles out from Saundersfoot, disaster struck in the shape of a rogue flock of sheep. There I was, humming along to Radio 2, when this woolly brigade decided the road was their personal catwalk. Brakes slammed, heart in mouth, and we ended up nose-to-tail with a tractor towing a hay bale the size of a small house. Twenty minutes later, after the farmer had rounded up his flock with a sheepdog that looked straight out of a BBC documentary, we were off again – but by now, our packed lunch had turned into a soggy sandwich massacre in the boot, and I’d spilled half my coffee down my shirt. Charming start, eh? I looked like I’d been mud-wrestling.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of narrow Pembrokeshire lanes lined with blooming gorse and the sea glinting in the distance, we spotted the sign for Bier Wood Lodges. Tucked just on the edge of Saundersfoot, it’s one of those hidden gems you stumble upon and think, “How have I not been here before?” We bumped down the gravel track, past neat rows of other lodges peeking through the trees, and pulled up outside Caldey Lodge. First impressions? Blimey, it was love at first sight. The place is a proper cosy haven – think wooden cladding that blends right into the woodland, a pitched roof with skylights promising starry nights, and a veranda that screams “gin and tonic o’clock”. Our key awaited in a lockbox (no faffing with check-in times here), and as I fumbled it open with sauce-stained fingers, the door swung wide to reveal a lounge that felt like a hug from an old mate.

Inside, it was all light and airy, with big windows framing the leafy Bier Wood backdrop. The kitchen was kitted out like a telly chef’s dream – shiny hob, massive fridge, and enough worktop space to rustle up a full Welsh breakfast without elbowing anyone. We dumped our bags and flopped onto the squishy corner sofa, which had those plush cushions that make you never want to leave. “This,” I declared to my other half, “is exactly what we needed after that sheep apocalypse.” A quick peek upstairs, and the bedrooms were spot on – king-sized bed piled high with quilts, en-suite with a rainfall shower that I immediately commandeered for a rinse-off. From the window, you could just make out the gentle roll of the hills towards Saundersfoot’s beach, close enough to hear the waves if you strained your ears.

Stepping out onto that veranda was the real kicker. Hot tub bubbling away invitingly (note to self: test it later), BBQ area primed for evening feasts, and those wood-chipped grounds stretching out under dappled sunlight. We cracked open a couple of cold ones from the local shop we’d nabbed on the way (shoutout to the friendly Saundersfoot offy with its pasties that could revive the dead), and just sat there, breathing it all in. The air smelled of pine and sea salt, birds cheeping overhead, and not a single car in sight. After the morning’s chaos, it hit me like a gentle wave: this is why we do these getaways. Life’s too short for soggy sandwiches and sheep jams – moments like this, arriving at a cracking spot like Caldey Lodge, remind you to slow down and savour the simple stuff. We hadn’t even ventured into Saundersfoot proper yet – the beach, the harbour, a pint at the Waterwynch – but already, our three days felt off to a flyer. What a belter of a first impression.