I’ll never forget the drive over to Anglesey last month – it was one of those crisp autumn mornings where the mist clings to the Menai Strait like a reluctant goodbye. We’d piled into the car from Cheshire, kids buzzing in the back with crisps and iPads, me navigating with a dodgy signal on my phone. About halfway across the bridge, disaster struck: a cheeky flock of sheep decided to stage a sit-in right on the road. Proper standstill for 20 minutes, horns beeping, while this farmer herded them like it was a Sunday stroll. I was fuming at first, but it broke the ice – we ended up laughing about it over service station pasties, turning what could’ve been a grumpy start into a proper family memory.

By the time we rolled into Rhosneigr, the sun was peeking through, painting the dunes golden. I’d been buzzing with anticipation all week, imagining cosy evenings as the days drew in, and pulling up to our first-floor apartment didn’t disappoint. Parked in the spot right outside, we hauled bags up the stairs, hearts lifting at the sight of the contemporary open-plan space – all clean lines and welcoming vibes, perfect for hunkering down in the seasonal chill.

Autumn in Anglesey is magic, isn’t it? The summer crowds have melted away, leaving the beaches to ourselves. First morning, we wandered down to Traeth Llydan, just a short stroll away – the tide was out, revealing vast expanses of golden sand scattered with seaweed and the odd crab scuttling for cover. The air had that sharp, briny tang, mixed with the earthy scent of damp leaves from the nearby dunes. Kids built epic sandcastles against the wind, while I wrapped up in my scarf, sipping thermos coffee and watching seals bob in the distance. No battling for space like in July; it felt like we had the whole coast to ourselves.

Afternoons were for pottering around the village – Rhosneigr’s got that sleepy charm in October, with cosy cafes dishing out hot chocolate topped with marshmallows big as golf balls. We grabbed fish and chips from the local spot, wrapping up against the brisk breeze to eat on the sea wall, gulls swooping hopefully overhead. Evenings in the apartment were pure bliss: I’d rustle up a stew in the well-kitted kitchen – that slimline dishwasher was a godsend after muddy wellies – then we’d flop on the L-shaped sofa, Smart TV flickering with a family film, rain pattering the windows like a gentle lullaby.

One night, as the wood-burning stove glow we’d borrowed from the hosts crackled away (they’d left logs as a welcome touch), I had a quiet moment of reflection. Staring out at the darkening sky over the bay, I realised how these shorter days force you to slow down – no endless beach marathons, just quality time, wrapped in blankets, sharing stories. It’s funny; I always chase summer holidays, but this autumn escape reminded me there’s joy in the quiet season too, when Anglesey wraps you in its wild, windswept hug.

We left with sandy boots and fuller hearts, already plotting a return for those frosty winter walks. If you’re after a proper off-peak gem, Rhosneigr in autumn delivers every time.