I’ll never forget the drive down to Bath last autumn – the leaves were turning that perfect coppery gold, carpeting the roads like nature’s own welcome mat. I’d set off from Bristol early, buzzing with that holiday anticipation, imagining cosy evenings by the fire after days of exploring. But typical me, I took a wrong turn near Keynsham, ending up in a snarl of leaf-strewn lanes with the satnav chuckling away. Half an hour late, heart racing a bit, I finally pulled up outside this stylish one-bedroom apartment tucked into the contemporary redevelopment of St Catherine’s Hospital, right in the city centre. Steps from the Roman Baths and Thermae Spa, it promised a serene bolt-hole amid the buzz – and blimey, it delivered from the off.

Stepping inside, I was hit with great first impressions: the place faced a tranquil courtyard garden, all hushed and leafy even in October’s mellow light. It felt like a peaceful retreat, thoughtfully designed with that modern edge but nodding to Bath’s historic vibe. After the drive faff, dumping my bags and brewing a cuppa, I just stood there grinning – this was going to be proper autumnal bliss.

The season shaped everything, really. Mornings started crisp and misty, the kind where you wrap up in a scarf and wander to the Roman Baths, steam rising like ancient spells in the cool air. No summer crowds, just me and a handful of fellow leaf-kickers marvelling at the Georgian grandeur under overcast skies that made the honey tones glow. Lunch was a steaming bowl of Somerset cider-brisket stew at a nearby café on Pulteney Bridge – the Avon rushing below, fringed with turning willows, and the chill nipping just enough to make it taste divine.

Afternoons, I’d amble through the Royal Crescent, crunching fallen leaves underfoot, the air thick with that earthy, damp scent you only get in autumn. One day, I treated myself to the Thermae Spa – heaven in the cooling dusk, slipping into the open-air rooftop pool as the sun dipped low, turning the water to molten gold. No sweaty queues, just pure, warming relaxation with Bath’s spires silhouetted against fiery skies. Evenings back at the flat were pure hygge: curling up with a book as rain pattered on the windows, the courtyard garden turning into a shadowy, lantern-lit haven. I’d pop out for fish and chips from a spot on Cheap Street, the paper-wrapped parcel steaming against the night chill – simple joys amplified by the season’s cosiness.

There was this gentle moment of self-reflection one foggy evening, sat by the window with a mulled cider in hand (picked up from the local market, brimming with pumpkin-spiced stalls). I realised how autumn strips things back – no frantic sun-chasing, just savouring the quiet rhythm of the city winding down. Bath in leaf-fall isn’t the postcard blaze of summer; it’s softer, more introspective, inviting you to slow down and breathe it all in. A small mishap at the start, but what a way to recharge. If you’re after a holiday that feels like a warm hug from the West Country, chase those autumn vibes here – you won’t regret it.