Just got back from the most brilliant week in a luxury holiday cottage in Norfolk, and blimey, the autumn season turned it into pure magic. I’d booked this posh spot near Burnham Market – think thatched roof, wood-burning stove, and views over the salt marshes that stretch to the horizon. It was mid-October, when Norfolk’s big skies go all dramatic, with leaves turning gold and those crisp mornings that make you feel alive. None of that sweaty summer scramble for beach parking; no, autumn wrapped everything in this cosy, golden glow that made the whole trip feel like a hug from nature.

First morning, I woke to mist rolling off the marshes like something out of a Brontë novel. Stepped out with a cuppa, and there they were: skeins of pink-footed geese honking overhead, heading south. Norfolk’s a birdwatcher’s dream in autumn, and from the cottage’s private hot tub (yes, really), I spotted brent geese and marsh harriers without even trying. No binoculars needed – just me, wrapped in a blanket, feeling a bit smug about ditching the office. We wandered down to Holkham Beach later that day, the massive sands empty save for a few dog-walkers. The sea was that moody grey, waves crashing with foam that sparkled in the low sun. We crunched through samphire and sea buckthorn berries, picking a few for supper. Summer crowds would’ve ruined it, but autumn gave us the place to ourselves – pure bliss.

Evenings were all about that seasonal hygge. The cottage had this Aga cooker pumping out heat, perfect for slow-roasting Norfolk crab and pumpkin soup made from veg we nabbed at a nearby farm shop. One night, we lit the fire and cracked open local Adnams ale, listening to the wind rattle the windows. I had a proper moment of reflection there, staring into the flames: work’s been manic lately, and I realised how rare it is to just sit, no screens, no rush. Autumn’s shorter days forced that slowness – sunsets by 5pm meant early nights with board games and stories, recharging properly.

Ventured to Blakeney Point midweek for a seal-watching boat trip. The season’s calm meant no queues, and with the wind whipping up, we bobbed about spotting grey seals pupping early on the sandbanks. Chilly, mind – I layered up like an onion, laughing at myself waddling back to the cottage soaked but grinning. Self-reflection number two: I’m rubbish at switching off normally, but Norfolk’s autumn rhythm – fading light, harvest smells, that earthy dampness – made me embrace the quiet. No FOMO, just being.

We finished with a jaunt to Houghton Hall’s autumn gardens, leaves carpeting the paths in fiery reds. Back at the cottage, mulled cider on the terrace as stars popped out sharp and cold. Norfolk in autumn isn’t flashy; it’s that understated luxury of space, wildlife, and proper comfort. If you’re after a holiday that seasons your soul, book one now – before winter steals the show. Can’t wait to go back.