I’ll never forget the drive up to Conway last autumn – the leaves were turning that perfect coppery gold, carpeting the roads like nature’s own welcome mat. Me and the missus piled into the car from Manchester, full of that fizzy anticipation you get before a proper getaway. But typical me, I took a wrong turn just past Llanrwst, ending up on some narrow lane that had me white-knuckling the wheel as golden foliage whipped past the windows. A quick sheep-induced U-turn later (those woolly buggers were everywhere, eyeing us like we’d gatecrashed their party), and we were back on track, laughing about my sat-nav dyslexia.

Pulling up to our first-floor apartment right on the edge of Eryri-Snowdonia National Park, just two miles from Betws-y-Coed, I was chuffed to bits. It’s one of those stylish spots that ticks all the boxes – open-plan living with a cracking en-suite super-king (we went for the twin setup, no arguments there), and access to massive shared gardens that were bursting with autumn colour. First impressions? Spot on. The crisp air hit you like a tonic, and from the balcony, you could almost taste the conkers ripening on the trees.

Autumn shaped every minute of our stay, turning the ordinary into magic. Mornings started with steaming mugs of tea in the open-plan kitchen, watching mist roll off the hills like a slow-motion dragon’s breath. We’d wander into Betws-y-Coed village, barely a ten-minute drive, where the high street was alive with that seasonal buzz – cosy cafes dishing out hot chocolate topped with marshmallows the size of golf balls, and shops piled high with woolly hats and local honey. One day, we hit the River Llugwy for a gentle stroll along the Swallow Falls trail. The water was thundering over mossy rocks, leaves swirling in amber eddies – pure poetry, that. I slipped on a wet leaf (see, I’m accident-prone), but it just made us giggle, brushing off the damp while the sun pierced the canopy in golden shafts.

Afternoons were for pottering in those shared gardens, kicking through crunchy leaves and spotting the last brave blackberries clinging to bushes. The season’s mellow light made everything feel softer, more reflective. Evenings, we’d rustle up a stew in the apartment, windows flung open to the chill that promised frost by dawn. One night, huddled under blankets on the sofa, I had a proper moment – staring out at the darkening park, thinking how autumn strips things back, doesn’t it? No summer crowds, just you, the turning world, and a bit of quiet headspace. Made me grateful for ditching the daily grind.

We squeezed in a cycle along the nearby lanes, pedalling through tunnels of fiery beech trees, cheeks rosy from the nippy breeze. The odd shower sent us scarpering back, but that’s autumn for you – dramatic downpours followed by rainbows arcing over the Conway Valley. By the end of our week, I was hooked on how the season wrapped the whole holiday in this warm, nostalgic glow. If you’re after a base that lets Snowdonia’s autumn show off, this spot’s a gem. We’re already plotting a return – next time, I’m packing better boots.