I did something very un-me-like and booked a fairly last-minute trip away to Devon for half-term.

Not only that, my husband and I booked it late one evening on the spur of the moment while watching a show that featured the pretty harbour town of Brixham.

We looked online quickly, found a place that we liked, and were just about to book when we realised it had no parking. Another quick scan of the internet for accommodation led me to find another lovely looking apartment, which we booked without any research or planning.

For the last couple of weeks I’d been telling everyone we were going to stay in Brixham. I was looking forward to staying there. It was only when I put that address into sat nav the night before we left that I realised we were staying in Torquay.

Brixham (where Katherine thought she was staying) treated her family to a gorgeous sunset

placeholder image — Brixham (where Katherine thought she was staying) treated her family to a gorgeous sunset

I asked my husband in a puzzled tone if he had realised, and he just said ‘of course I did, you sent me the link for that place so I just assumed you wanted to stay in Torquay’.

And this is why I usually prefer to plan things, mull them over and make sure I’m booking what I think I am. I am bad at off-the-cuff stuff.

As it happens, Torquay was perfectly pleasant and a great base for exploring south Devon. Plus, it’s part of the English Riviera, of which Brixham is also a part. Our apartment was brilliant, and Torquay was definitely a better place for my morning runs, given its longer seafront.

And we still went to Brixham, which was as lovely as I had hoped with its gift shops, galleries, harbour, restaurants, chippies and pubs. Plus, on the day we visited it treated us to one of the most gorgeous sunsets I’ve seen in a very long time.

We also loved Dartmouth, although I got the shock of my life as we drove there and turned a corner only to find myself fast approaching water. I had no idea the route we had taken required us to take a car ferry to cross the River Dart. Luckily, my brakes were working and we safely took the ferry across to this pretty coastal spot.

My National Trust dreams were also fulfilled by ticking off two new properties – Greenways, Agatha Christie's holiday home complete with a fab selection of her books in the gift shop, and Coleton Fishacre, with stunning views of the dramatic coastline and a lovely art-deco house.

Sure, there were squabbles between the kids, and some of the usual parenting mundanities. They, sadly, don’t just disappear when you’re away.

But it was, generally, a lovely week and we made plenty of family memories. Maybe I should go rogue and be spontaneous more often!