What I loved the most was the early mornings at Ellesmera Mill, waking up to the sound of birds and quietly tip-toeing downstairs to heat milk for my coffee on the warm Aga. I started by opening the windows, letting the fresh air and morning light flood in then took my coffee outside for my first barefoot steps on the dewy grass, making my way to the wood-fired hot tub to light the logs. I rested on a sunbed by the newly lit fire, taking in the green of the valley, the sound of the trickling stream, the morning light hitting the tops of the trees and the smell of burning logs. I could have stayed there, at that moment, forever.

There is a path that leads from the house to Blackpool Sands, a beautiful pebbled beach, that I walked even when the summer rain fell. It was peaceful, still and silent, yet so full of life and colour. When I returned, the rest of the house was awake so we got our dressing gowns and climbed into the hot tub, relaxing there for the rest of the morning until the sun shone through the trees into our garden.

On Sunday, we had a private chef come to Ellesmera Mill to cook us a delicious Sunday lunch, we set the dining table with a blue and white stripy linen table cloth and dressed it with violet flowers. We enjoyed flavours of beetroot, salmon, all the traditional fare of a Sunday roast, finished with summer pudding and homemade ice cream. Everyone agreed that this was the highlight of our trip! During afternoons, the kids would play cricket and run around in the garden while we would read magazines and catch up on the sunbeds. When evening fell, we put on knitted jumpers and long trousers, lit the fire and cosied up by its warming flame in the lounge. We played charades late into the night with the rest of our afternoon tea still on the table, topped up with cheese, biscuits and more tea from the welcome hamper.

The next day we went for lunch at the Winking Prawn in Salcombe, an old favourite of ours. The sea mist was particularly heavy and as we drove down the winding roads through the thickness of it, we finally emerge onto the magical scenery of summer Salcombe - boating, paddleboarding, pebbled beaches and prawn sandwiches. On our return the light had faded, casting shades of violets and pinks onto the storybook landscape while a sheep feasted on flowers and greens; this image is still in my mind like a beautiful postcard kept in memory.

Sometimes I would walk down to Blackpool Sands as the night was falling and I thought I would have to use my torch, only to arrive on the beach to the last rays of light and what was left of couples, families and dog walkers taking in the view of the ocean. Before bed, we would stick our heads out of the window and pay notice to any bright stars before climbing into bed, listening to the sound of the trickling stream.