We set off from the ferry terminal with the sort of optimistic map reading that usually ends in mild embarrassment, and sure enough we took the longer route around the little lakes instead of the direct road. By the time we pulled up at the red wooden cottage outside Strangnas I was already laughing at myself for insisting the satnav knew best. The house sat quietly among tall pines with a neat gravel drive and a porch that looked ready for muddy boots. Our two children tumbled out before I had even switched the engine off, and the first thing they noticed was the little rowing boat tied up by the jetty at the end of the garden.

Inside it was exactly the sort of place that makes you want to kick off your shoes straight away. The living room had a big sofa facing the wood burner, and the kitchen table was already set with mismatched mugs that somehow felt friendlier than anything matching. We unpacked the food we had bought in town and discovered the fridge was bigger than our one at home, which led to an immediate debate about whether we needed to buy more cheese. The children claimed the loft bedroom with its sloping ceiling and skylight, and I could hear them arguing cheerfully about who got the top bunk while I stood on the porch and simply breathed in the scent of pine and lake water.

What struck me first was how little we needed to do. The garden sloped gently down to the water and there was already a barbecue ready on the deck. We spent the rest of that first afternoon drifting between the jetty and the hammock without ever managing a proper plan. My partner found a stack of board games in the cupboard and we played the silliest round of Uno I have seen in years, mostly because nobody could remember the rules properly. Later, when the light began to fade, we lit the fire and watched the reflections on the water through the big window.

I had come expecting the usual holiday rush of sights and activities, but sitting there with tea that had gone cold because nobody wanted to move, it occurred to me that the real point might just be this. The cottage did not demand anything from us except to slow down a little and notice the quiet. Even the small mishap of taking the wrong turning felt useful now, because it had given us an extra half hour of daylight by the lake that we would not otherwise have had. By the time we went to bed I realised I had not checked my phone once since we arrived, and that felt like the best review the place could have.