I’ll never forget the drive over to the Isle of Wight last autumn – proper British weather testing our resolve from the off. We’d splashed out on the ferry from Portsmouth, buzzing with that holiday anticipation, cups of tea in hand, imagining crisp walks along the shore. But halfway across the Solent, the heavens opened, and our little hatchback decided to throw a minor wobbly – the windscreen wipers packed up just as the spray hit. Cue me squinting like a pirate through the downpour, while the kids in the back giggled hysterically. “Dad’s turning into Captain Ahab!” they chorused. A quick stop at the terminal café sorted it with a temporary fix, and by the time we rolled into Bembridge, the rain had eased into that soft, misty drizzle that makes everything feel cosy.

Pulling up to this wonderful apartment set over two floors in the heart of the village, my first impressions were spot on – it looked like the perfect autumn bolthole, all welcoming lights glowing against the fading light. Tucked into a shared hallway on the ground floor for dumping wellies (essential in this season’s mud), we climbed to the first-floor hallway, where a handy shower room promised to rinse off the beach sand after our inevitable coastal jaunts. The modern sitting room with its dining area and Smart TV screamed family film nights, and the well-equipped kitchen was a godsend for rustling up hearty stews as the evenings drew in early. Up on the second floor, the king-size master double offered teasing glimpses of the sea through the window – on a clear day, you could almost taste the salt – plus a standard double, a twin with sofa bed, a bathroom, and a chaise longue on the landing for a sneaky read.

Autumn shaped our whole stay in the best way. Bembridge’s sandy beaches, like those at Whitecliff Bay just down the road, were transformed – empty of summer crowds, perfect for blustery dog walks with the wind whipping up the waves, leaves swirling like confetti. We’d wrap up in scarves and coats, crunching through dunes dotted with autumn gorse, still blooming gold against the grey skies. One afternoon, we hit the coastal path towards Foreland, spotting seals bobbing in the choppy sea, the low sun casting that magical, fleeting light that makes you stop and breathe it all in. Back at the apartment, nothing beat cooking a roast in the kitchen, then snuggling on the sofa with hot chocolates and a Monopoly marathon by the TV – the kids trouncing me every time, naturally.

Evenings called for a ten-minute stroll to the village pub, where the fire roared and pints of local bitter warmed us from the inside out. No faffing with far-flung spots; everything we needed was close, from the RSPB bird reserve at Bembridge Marshes (twitching with migrating flocks in the cooler months) to popping into the high street for fresh pasties. One quiet moment, sat on that chaise longue with a cuppa, gazing at the sea’s hazy outline, I reflected on how these shorter days pull you closer – less rushing about, more proper family time. No regrets about picking autumn; it wrapped our Bembridge break in that golden, nostalgic glow. If you’re after a seasonal escape that feels like a hug, this is it.