I’ll never forget the drive down to Cornwall last autumn – the A38 was its usual chaotic self, and just past Plymouth, we hit a massive puddle from one of those sudden squalls that turn the road into a skating rink. Skidded a bit, heart in my mouth, but we laughed it off with the radio blasting some cheesy 90s tunes. By the time we wound our way into Looe, the anticipation was buzzing; golden leaves swirling in the wind, promising that crisp, cosy escape we’d been craving after a hectic summer.

Pulling up to the holiday cottage – a smart, modern seaside number with all the comforts – I was chuffed to bits. First impressions? Spot on. The sea views from the windows hit you straight away, waves crashing under a moody sky, and the air had that proper autumn tang, all salty and fresh with a hint of woodsmoke from someone’s chimenea.

We’d timed it perfectly for October half-term, when Cornwall’s magic really shines without the summer hordes. Mornings started with steaming mugs of tea on the balcony, watching fishing boats bob in the harbour as the low sun painted everything in amber hues. The seasonal shift made walks along Looe’s beaches an absolute dream – Hannafore Beach just down the path was littered with driftwood and seaweed, perfect for poking about with wellies on. No baking heat to contend with; instead, that invigorating chill that makes your cheeks glow and turns a simple stroll into an adventure. We even spotted seals lounging on the rocks, their barks carrying on the breeze – a proper treat you don’t get in the peak madness.

Looe itself felt like it was winding down for winter, which suited us down to the ground. The weekly market was still on, stalls heaving with local pumpkins, fudge, and pasties fresh from the oven – we demolished a couple while dodging the odd shower. Popped into the tiny independent shops along the Fore Street for some autumnal souvenirs: jars of blackberry jam made from hedgerows heavy with fruit. Evenings were pure bliss, hunkered down in the cottage with the heating on full, cooking up stews with ingredients from the nearby farm shop. The darkening nights meant epic sunsets over the bay, turning the water fiery orange before the chill set in – cue blankets and a cheeky bottle of local cider.

Of course, there was a moment when the weather turned properly squally, rain lashing the windows like it was auditioning for a horror film. We’d planned a boat trip but ended up playing board games instead, which was honestly better – forced us to slow down and chat properly. Made me reflect a bit, you know? In the rush of everyday life, I forget how restorative these seasonal shifts are. Autumn in Cornwall stripped it all back: no distractions, just nature doing its thing, reminding you to breathe.

Short days meant we made the most of every ray, but that early darkness wrapped everything in a cosy hug. If you’re after a holiday that feels like a proper reset, hit Cornwall this time of year – it’s transformative. We left feeling utterly recharged, already plotting next autumn’s getaway.