I finally made it to Saundersfoot after a bit of a faff on the road from Tenby – nothing major, just me spilling half a Costa latte down my shirt as I juggled the sat-nav and tried to spot the turning for Cariad Y Mor Lodge. Proper daft, innit? There I was, looking like I'd been in a milkshake fight, pulling up to this cosy little haven perched right on the edge of the village, with the sea breeze already whispering promises of a proper chill-out. It was late afternoon on day one of our three-day family jaunt, and after scraping off the coffee stain with a baby wipe (parenting hack number 47), we tumbled out of the car, kids in tow, buzzing with that first-holiday excitement.

Cariad Y Mor – "Love of the Sea" in Welsh, which felt spot on – is one of those unpretentious lodges that just screams relaxed Welsh escape. Tucked into a quiet spot overlooking the bay, it's got that perfect seaside cottage vibe without being all fancy-pants. We unlocked the door (keys hidden under a flowerpot, classic) and stepped into a warm, wood-beamed living space that smelled faintly of fresh linen and past barbecues. The kids – my two under-tens, full of beans – immediately claimed the squishy corner sofa, while I dumped the bags and took in the view through the big picture window: Saundersfoot's sandy beach stretching out like a golden welcome mat, waves lapping lazily under a patchy Pembrokeshire sky.

First impressions? Blissfully low-key chaos. The lodge is compact but clever – open-plan kitchen-diner with everything you need for scoffing fish and chips without faffing about. We unpacked amid the usual hullabaloo: eldest rifling through drawers for board games, youngest discovering the quirky loft bedroom with its skylight perfect for stargazing (or, more likely, shining a torch on the ceiling till midnight). I love how these places embrace a bit of lodge life disorder; there was a wonky shelf of dog-eared paperbacks and a stack of wellies by the door, ready for impromptu paddles. Hubby fired up the kettle for a proper brew – none of that American drip nonsense – and we cracked open the biscuits, plonking down to watch fishing boats bob in the harbour just down the hill.

Wandering out for that golden-hour explore was pure magic. Saundersfoot's beach is a five-minute stroll, and we hit it at low tide, toes sinking into cool, damp sand. The kids went feral building lopsided sandcastles, while I skimmed stones (badly, as usual) and let the sea air wash away the drive's stresses. There's something dead simple about it – no theme parks or Instagram queues, just the gentle whoosh of waves and gulls squawking overhead. We nipped into the village for ice creams from the parlour on The Strand (mint choc chip for me, every time), dodging the odd dog-walker and chatting with a local about the best chippy. Back at the lodge, sunset painted the bay pink, and we grilled sausages on the little patio deck, smoke curling up as the kids chased each other round the garden, shrieking with laughter.

That first evening, supping tea on the bench as the light faded, I had one of those quiet moments – you know, the gentle self-reflection bit where you realise life's simple stuff hits hardest. Work emails forgotten, to-do lists binned; here we were, a slightly sticky, windswept family, utterly content in our wee seaside bubble. Cariad Y Mor Lodge wrapped us in that unhurried Welsh welcome from the off – a bit of mishap, loads of laughter, and the sea as our backdrop. If you're after a family break that's more hygge than hustle, this is your spot. Can't wait to return.