I’ll never forget the drive down to North Devon last autumn – the leaves were turning that gorgeous coppery gold, carpeting the lanes like nature’s own welcome mat. Me and the family piled into the car from Bristol, kids buzzing in the back with crisps and iPads, while I blasted a playlist of classic rock to keep the vibes high. About halfway, disaster struck: a rogue pheasant decided to play chicken with our windscreen. Feathers everywhere, heart in my mouth, but we pulled over, gave it a once-over (bird was fine, thank goodness), and carried on laughing about my dodgy driving karma. By the time we wound down those coastal roads towards Woolacombe, the anticipation was electric – golden hour light hitting the sea, promising that crisp, bracing autumn escape we’d been craving.

Pulling up to this luxurious single-level holiday home, my first impressions were spot on. Ideally suited to friends and families, it’s a relaxing retreat on the North Devon coast with a fantastic garden and hot tub for your enjoyment. Within 2 miles, you’ll find the sandy stretch of Woolacombe Beach where you can swim, learn to surf and dine out at one of the many restaurants overlooking the sea. The place just screamed cosy autumnal bliss – low-slung and inviting, with the garden already dusted in fallen leaves, ready for us to rake into piles for the kids to dive into.

Autumn shaped every minute of our stay, turning what could’ve been a standard beach break into something magical. Mornings started with mist rolling off the Atlantic, wrapping the garden in that soft, ethereal glow. We’d brew tea in the sunlit kitchen, then crunch through the garden to the hot tub – oh, that was heaven. Sinking in as the sun climbed, steam rising against the chill, with the sea’s distant roar as our soundtrack. The cooler weather meant fewer crowds, so Woolacombe Beach felt like our private playground. We wrapped up in woollies for bracing walks along the sand, toes numb from paddling in the frothy waves that crashed harder in the autumn swell. The kids tried their hand at bodyboarding, shrieking as the cold water bit, while I watched, chuckling at my own failed attempts years ago – talk about a dad bod not built for surf.

Evenings were pure hygge. We’d fire up the barbecue in the garden (yes, even in October – North Devon’s Gulf Stream magic kept it mild), grilling local sausages and sipping mulled cider from Mortehoe’s farm shop, just a short stroll away. One night, stars blazing overhead with no light pollution, we spotted a shooting star – cue cheesy wishes from the lot of us. A gentle stroll to one of those seafront restaurants for fish and chips wrapped in paper, the autumn wind whipping up salt spray, felt like the perfect wind-down.

Reflecting on it now, that trip was a nudge to slow down. Amid the daily grind, I’d forgotten how autumn strips things back – no summer heat haze, just raw, honest coast and family time that recharged my batteries. The season’s mellow hues and that fresh, ozone tang made every moment pop. If you’re after a North Devon getaway that lets autumn steal the show, this spot’s a gem. We’re already plotting our return.