I had never been to the Rame peninsula before. Truth be told, I'd never even heard of this forgotten corner of Cornwall. Now that I've spent some time in the small but beautifully formed spit of land which can be found just over the water from Plymouth, I'm a big fan. It exudes Olde Worlde charm and has something wonderfully innocent about it. Going there gave me just the inspiration I needed. But to explain how I ended up spending a weekend halfway down a cliff, soaking in the sunshine and strumming away on my favourite ukulele, I need to go back in time. A long way back.

It all started in the 80s, when I was a pop star for a while. I was in a band called the Housemartins. When that all stopped, I started writing books and TV shows for children. I forgot all about writing and performing music for grown-ups. Until a couple of months ago, when I went to a gig in Bristol. I was there to watch my old mate Paul Heaton supporting Squeeze, and before the show a bloke called Jon came up to me. He started telling me how much he'd enjoyed the Housemartins and then casually asked if I fancied playing some songs in his garden shed. He would film it on a cheap-and-cheerful phonecam and then upload it to his website. No money would change hands, but he was prepared to offer me a cup of tea. Maybe even a couple of biscuits.

I liked the sound of this, but there were two problems: I didn't have a band and I didn't have any songs. I needed to find out what was expected in these shed sessions, so I checked out Jon's website. Turns out songsfromtheshed.com has had millions of views. Suddenly I felt a bit of pressure. At which point I decided that if I was going to be playing some songs in a shed, I might as well go and write the songs in a shed. Question was: could I find one?

I went online, and somehow I stumbled across what is possibly the poshest shed in the south-west: a cute little place called Breakers, in Whitsand Bay, Cornwall, that took my breath away. From looking at the pictures, I didn't know whether to call it a chalet, a glorified beach hut or some kind of five-star shed on steroids. What I did know is that if hobbits lived in huts, this is the sort of place they'd want to live in. In fact, I'll go further. If hobbits lived halfway up a cliff in Cornwall and had great taste, unlimited budgets and a love of surfing, this is exactly the place where you'd find them.

The romance starts when you get to Plymouth and drive on to the Torpoint Link Ferry, a smallish boat that pulls itself across the River Tamar on chains. As my wife and I clanked across the water I could feel life slowing down and, as if on cue, the sun came out. Reaching the other side, almost the first thing we saw was the enormous and impressively solid Tregantle Fort. It's one of the forts Lord Palmerston built during Victorian times to discourage the French navy from even thinking about attacking Plymouth Sound: a glorious-looking thing that definitely adds to the feeling that you've left the modern world far behind. We parked up overlooking Whitsand Bay and walked along the clifftop path. As we went up and down the winding steps I realised we weren't going to be alone. There were dozens of cute little buildings snuggled into the hillside. The place is more like a film set than a holiday destination.

I like nothing more than knowing I've got some work to do and not doing it. So rather than getting out my ukulele, I decided to explore our holiday home. It sleeps two in comfort and boasts central heating, a kingsize bed with views of the sea and a double-ended bath in the marble wetroom. It also has a bijou kitchen and just enough living space to take up dancing.

The next job was to take Mabel the dog down the zigzagging path to the beach. It's one of those rugged and pretty beaches which Cornwall does so well, with acres of sand, plenty of rocks to clamber on and enough waves to keep everyone happy. It also has a café with an honesty box for when the owner is out surfing.

It wasn't easy to get to work under these conditions. The temptation to stroll along the cliffs or get in the car to explore was ever present. Luckily it only takes five minutes to drive to the nearby twin villages of Kingsand and Cawsand. In years gone by, Cawsand was in Devon and Kingsand was in Cornwall. But these days they're happily reunited under the Cornish flag. When we got there a cheerful local pointed us in the direction of the Devonport Inn, a dog-friendly pub with a fire in the grate, a smiling landlady and home-smoked herring on the menu. We enjoyed a delicious dinner and a pint or two of the local Fisherman's Ale before driving back to Breakers so I could get down to some songwriting.

Over the next couple of days, in between exploring the beach and discovering the hammocks in the back garden, I was inspired enough to put three little songs together, one of them called "Everyone Needs a Shed". I also managed to work out exactly what the place we were staying in really is. It's small, absurdly luxurious and contains every comfort your heart could possibly wish for – a pint-sized palace.

Essentials

The trip was provided by Unique Home Stays (01637 881183, uniquehomestays.com). From £875 per week or £675 for a three-night weekend for two people