The property was in the village — dangerously convenient, really. Everything I could possibly need was within walking distance, which meant there was absolutely no excuse for me not to exercise. All the lakes and trails were just a quick 15–30 minute bike ride away, which sounds wholesome until you realise I made a habit of rewarding myself with pint immediately after.The view of Sproatt Mountain was spectacular — the kind of sunset that makes you think you should propose to someone, or at the very least write poetry you’ll regret later.As for the bike storage and wash station — brilliant idea. Nothing says “holiday” like power-hosing your muddy bike while pretending you’re on Top Gear.What truly made the stay, though, were the people: Sam, with the smoothest check-in and check-out I’ve ever experienced (I half expected a red carpet and a brass band), and Rebecca, who patiently rescued me whenever I locked myself out… which was, let’s just say, more than once.I stayed nearly two months in summer — long enough to grow attached, short enough not to be charged property tax. And yes, I’m already plotting a return in winter.