There is nothing to do. And my children are never ready to leave. A sprawling system of rockpools, some large enough to pretend to be a mermaid in, requires hours of play. A bucket and net are enough to fuel searches for creatures, sea glass, shells and, one day, my eldest is adamant, pirate treasure. It is one of the easiest places to parent as there is nothing much asked of me at all once they are busy exploring. That leaves me free to have a proper conversation with my husband, something, it dawns on me, that is vanishingly rare. Even better, we can do so over a very good coffee, thanks to the Talland Bay Beach Café which sits right behind the sand. Inside is stripped back, sandy-floored; a single bar of seating bends around the corner in front of a large window onto the beach. Outside, three brightly painted beach huts offer sanctuary from the Cornish rain, and benches perch above the sand, making a particularly perfect place for a drink at sunset. With local ice cream, homemade cakes, and, naturally, pasties, you really don’t need to leave once you are here for the day. Another few layers of pressure are removed: lunch – sorted, afternoon pick-me-up – sorted, obligatory Cornish cream tea – you get the picture.
Once we can drag the children away, we drop our bags at Talland Bay Hotel. It’s an easy place to bring children, with eccentric wonderland-esque design touches, self-catering options and children’s menus which devote significant real estate to dessert – because why just offer ice cream when you can offer an ‘ice cream picnic’ which arrives in a tiny hamper filled with three types of chocolate buttons in glass bottles, fudge cubes and chocolate flakes? Much like the beach it sits above, this is somewhere that a simple wooden swing becomes a highlight – a destination for the children after dinner, while the grown-ups enjoy the hotel’s own gin, distilled with pine from their trees, in a cocktail.