I’ll never forget the drive down to Herefordshire last autumn – leaves turning that glorious coppery gold all along the lanes, but of course, I managed to pick the one day when the heavens opened just as we neared Abbeydore. Sat-nav had us twisting through those narrow country roads, wipers on full pelt, and then – splash! – we hit a massive puddle that soaked the car windows like we’d driven through a car wash. Laughing about it now, but at the time, I was convinced we’d arrive looking like drowned rats. Still, the anticipation built as the rain eased off, revealing glimpses of the Black Mountains ahead, all misty and dramatic in the fading light. By the time we pulled up, the sun was peeking through, casting this magical glow over everything.

First impressions? Absolutely spot on. Tucked away in a secluded spot on a working sheep farm at the foothills of the Black Mountains, this gorgeous bolthole surrounded by unspoilt countryside, interesting wildlife and seasonal fauna is the ultimate romantic couples retreat for those craving an escape from everyday life. It felt like stepping into a proper autumn postcard – crisp air scented with damp earth and fallen leaves, sheep bleating lazily in the fields, and not a soul in sight. Perfect for us, really, after months of city hustle.

The season shaped every moment. Mornings started with steaming mugs of tea on the little patio, watching mist lift from the valleys while squirrels dashed about hoarding nuts – or so I imagined, in my romanticised way. We’d wrap up in scarves and wellies for gentle walks along the farm tracks, kicking through crunchy leaves and spotting the last blackberries clinging to hedgerows. One afternoon, we wandered just a mile or so to Abbey Dore, that quaint village with its ancient church glowing in the low golden sun. The autumn light made the old stones look almost enchanted, and we nipped into the local pub for a pint of cider – Herefordshire’s own, naturally, all crisp and appley from the recent harvest. Proper warming stuff after the chill.

Evenings were pure cosiness. With the days drawing in early, we’d light the fire (no faffing about, it was ready to go) and cook up hearty stews using veg from a nearby farm shop – pumpkins and squashes everywhere, thanks to the season’s bounty. One night, we heard owls hooting as the fog rolled in, turning the farm into this mystical hideaway. I couldn’t help a quiet moment of reflection by the window: staring out at the darkened hills, I realised how rare it is to properly switch off. Work emails? Forgotten. Life’s noise? Miles away. Just me, her, and the rustle of wind through the turning trees.

We even timed a visit to the Dore Abbey harvest festival – all hay bales, local jams, and folk singing carols a bit early. Cheeky, but it captured that autumn spirit perfectly. A small mishap with a muddy boot track across the floor had us chuckling into the night, but honestly, it just added to the charm. Herefordshire in autumn isn’t just a getaway; it’s a full immersion in nature’s slowdown, reminding you to savour the simple things before winter bites. We left refreshed, promising to return for spring’s green burst. If you’re after that, pack your thermals and go.