I’ll never forget the drive up to Conway last November – the Welsh autumn was in full swing, with those coppery leaves swirling like confetti in the wind and a proper chill creeping in that made you glad for the car heater. We’d set off from Manchester early, buzzing with that holiday anticipation, you know, imagining cosy evenings by the fire after days out in the crisp air. But typical me, I took a wrong turn just past Llandudno Junction, ending up on some narrow lane that had me white-knuckling the wheel as tractors loomed out of the mist. A good half-hour detour later, we rolled into Conway, laughing it off over cups of thermos tea, the castle’s silhouette glowing against the slate-grey sky like something out of a storybook.

Pulling up to the holiday cottage, my first impressions were spot on – it was this charming little detached place, all snug and welcoming with its electric log effect fire already flickering away in the lounge, casting a warm, golden glow that chased off the damp outside. Perfect for the season, really; November’s shorter days meant we were straight into that proper hygge vibe, shedding coats and boots while the windows framed views of the misty Conway estuary.

The time of year shaped everything so brilliantly. Mornings started with frosty walks along the town walls, the ancient stones crunching underfoot as the sun struggled up, turning the river into a shimmering ribbon. We’d pop into the high street for hot bacon baps from the local bakery – nothing beats that salty warmth on a bracing day. Afternoons were for gentle rambles in Conway Morfa woods, where the autumn foliage was at its peak, carpets of red and gold crunching as we kicked through them, the air thick with that earthy, post-rain scent. One day, we even spotted a few seals bobbing in the estuary, their heads popping up like cheeky locals waving hello.

Evenings were pure bliss, huddled by that electric fire with mulled cider from the nearby offy, playing board games till our eyes drozed. The seasonal chill made it all the more magical – no sweaty summer crowds, just us and the quiet rhythm of the tides. I had a proper moment of self-reflection one night, staring into the flames, thinking how these shorter, cosier days remind you to slow down, appreciate the simple stuff like a shared laugh or a steaming mug. We did venture to AberConway House gardens one drizzly afternoon, the falling leaves making it feel like a secret autumn wonderland, all twisted trees and hidden paths.

Sure, the odd rainy squall had us dashing back for more fire-gazing, but that’s Wales for you in November – it wraps you up in its moody beauty. By the time we packed up, I was already plotting a return for next year’s leaf-peeping. If you’re after a proper seasonal escape, Conway’s holiday lets deliver every time.