I’ll never forget the drive to Barmouth last autumn – the leaves were turning that gorgeous coppery gold, carpeting the roads like nature’s own welcome mat. We’d piled into the car from Shrewsbury, kids buzzing in the back with crisps and iPads, me navigating via a dodgy sat-nav that decided halfway through to send us on a scenic detour through some narrow lanes near Harlech. Cue a classic dad moment: I misjudged a tight bend, clipped a verge, and ended up with a muddy wheel arch. “Brilliant,” I muttered, laughing it off as we scraped free. But honestly, it just ramped up the anticipation – by the time those first glimpses of Cardigan Bay peeked through the trees, we were proper excited.

Pulling up to our holiday place felt like unwrapping a gift. It’s this lovely period property with jaw-dropping sea views across to the Llyn Peninsula, all cosy and characterful inside but kitted out with modern bits to keep everyone happy. Perfect for us lot – family of four plus our well-behaved spaniel, Monty. First impressions? Spot on. The enclosed terrace and garden overlooked the waves, and even on that crisp October afternoon, the hot tub was calling our names.

Autumn in Barmouth shaped everything in the best way. No summer crowds clogging the promenade, just us ambling along the sandy beach, kicking through piles of seaweed and driftwood, the air that sharp, salty tang that makes your cheeks glow. We’d wrap up in coats and scarves for walks along the estuary, watching oystercatchers dart about and seals popping up now and then. One evening, with the sun dipping low and painting the sky in fiery oranges, we cracked open a bottle of wine on the terrace – Monty snoozing at our feet – and it was pure magic. The cooler weather meant firing up the log burner in the lounge most nights; we’d flop on the sofas after a day out, playing board games while the flames crackled. That games room downstairs was a hit too – the kids thrashed me at pool, their laughter echoing as rain pattered the windows, turning it into a proper hygge vibe.

The open-plan kitchen was a dream for autumn feasts. I channelled my inner chef, rustling up hearty stews with local lamb from the Barmouth butcher, root veg roasting in the oven while we chatted around the island. Upstairs, the bedrooms were lush – our king double with en-suite was a sanctuary after soggy walks, and the family room with bunks kept the little ones grinning. Laundry in the utility room was a godsend after muddy paws and welly prints.

We ventured into town for fish and chips from the harbourside stall, eaten on benches overlooking the harbour where fishing boats bobbed gently. A gentle hike up to Dinas Oleu – that National Trust spot with panoramic views – rewarded us with carpets of bracken glowing russet in the low light. I had a quiet moment up there, sat on a rock with a thermos of tea, reflecting on how the season’s mellow pace let us properly switch off. No rushing, just being. Back at the house, evenings in the hot tub under starry skies – yes, even in October, with steam rising and the sea whispering – capped it perfectly.

Barmouth in autumn? It’s like the place whispers, “Slow down, mate.” We left refreshed, promising to return when the leaves crunch again. What a stay.