IT WAS while sat on a wet beach in Wales for the third year running, horizontal rain trickling down our necks, despite our cagoules, our pitiful bundle of towels, soggy sandwiches and suncream stuffed under one umbrella, that we promised we would go abroad next year.

However beautiful our shores are, you just can’t guarantee the weather and, like the little girl with a curl, when it’s good it’s very, very good, but when it’s bad it’s horrid.

And yet when I started looking into going abroad, I realised I needed a degree in patience, the logistical skills of an Army commander and a stash of cash that we frankly didn’t have.

Flying a family of six anywhere and hiring a seven-seater car means you’ve spent thousands of pounds before even securing any accommodation. Back to Wales then.

And then we discovered that Brittany Ferries has started a new route from Portsmouth to Bilbao, meaning that Northern Spain and Southern France were suddenly within stumbling distance, and we might after all come home not only with a tan, but with a sense of humour. Imagine that?

And so we booked an overnight August crossing and began a holiday we will never forget. The route took us through the Bay of Biscay where whale and dolphin spotting is only one of the many occupations thrown in for good measure. And as soon as we got on board we realised this was a ferry with a difference. Not only was our car the only non-Range Rover on the lower deck, but we also spent the day at the children’s outdoor play area with none other than BBC newsreader Sophie Raworth. Oh the glamour.

Complete with several cinemas, a dog walking area, three restaurants and a pool, the Bilbao ferry caters for a different crowd to the Calais booze cruise brigade. Not a casino or cabaret act in sight, although the children’s entertainment was fabulous.

And as you board at 5pm and arrive at 4pm the next day, the overnight crossing was an absolute pleasure and a major feature of the usual gritted teeth ordeal. The compulsory cabins were light, clean and views obviously spectacular. We emerged unscathed and relaxed, ready for two weeks of fun.

Bilbao is a stone’s throw from Spain’s foodie mecca San Antonia and bull-chasing Pamplona, and just over the border from Biarritz, but we trekked further inland, to a tiny village in the middle of absolutely nowhere in French Aquitaine.

The house in question, found on the fabulous owners.direct website (cutting out the middleman and therefore additional expense, and giving you direct access to the owners), was an absolute paradise.

The L-shaped medieval house overlooked a large garden complete with pool, and the neighbouring farm was the only property for miles, meaning we could make as much noise as we wanted. A built-in barbecue area and a river at the bottom of the garden, perfect for canoeing, fishing, bird watching, swimming and generally mucking about, completed the idyll.

There was lots to do and see – daily markets in various villages, kayaking, rugby matches, big nights out in Biarritz, all there for the taking, and we did dip our toe in the entertainment pond. But for the main part we were happy to sit back, kick back and relax.

Days were spent splashing in the pool with the kids, the evenings drinking and eating like kings, al fresco. Having attended weekly swimming lessons for a year, and made little progress, my two little ones learned to swim in a week. Life doesn’t get any better. And with a healthy 11 to our party it was fun all the way.

The second week, we’d opted for some downtime toute seule and booked the ferry home from St Malo on the north coast. The South of France is wonderful, but Brittany is much cheaper, a quarter of the price actually, and so we drove straight through the middle of France in a day, nearly getting divorced on the one-way system in Lyon, and up to Brest where we had rented a little fishing cottage on the beach for under £500 (owners.direct we love you).

So when the fridge broke we phoned the owner who was round within hours to replace it, instead of ringing through to a UK holiday company and waiting days for a response.

In Brest, the white sand stretched for miles and yet we were often the only people on it. We could almost see the crowds in Cornwall being fleeced for thousands on the opposing shores while we dug for cockles in the wet sand. And again began a very special week of rockpooling, excursions to the local medieval towns and markets, sand-surfing and castle building.

We’d start on the beach outside our house in the mornings and when the tide went right out (we’re talking miles here) would decamp to another round the corner complete with mussel pools and great damming opportunities, before returning at night to build sandcastles and wait till the tide returned, to watch the sun go down with a wine box of rosé. Bliss.

St Malo is only a couple of hours drive, and again the ferry was a doddle. We had booked a cabin with a TV (an extra £35 and worth every penny), which helps when you want to retire from the milling crowds, and the kids watched the live daily pantomime (yes really) while we made the nine-hour journey home.

So there we go, the cheat’s guide to slumming it in the South of France. And did it rain? Not a drop. Smug? Moi?

Brittany Ferries operate up to five cruiseferry sailings a week from Portsmouth and Plymouth to Santander and Bilbao in northern Spain.

Katherine returned via Brittany Ferries’ daily service from St Malo in Brittany to Portsmouth Return fares on these routes with car and cabin in mid-season start from £125 per person, based on a family of four.

To book or for more information call 0871 244 1400 or visit brittanyferries.com Accomodation ownersdirect.co.uk