I’ll never forget the drive up to Deganwy last autumn – the leaves were turning that perfect golden-orange, carpeting the A55 like a rumpled picnic blanket, and I was buzzing with that pre-holiday anticipation, imagining cosy evenings by the window with a brew in hand. It was mid-October, you see, that sweet spot where summer’s warmth lingers just enough to fool you into packing too few jumpers, but the chill in the air promises proper seasonal magic. Naturally, I hit a snag five miles out: a cheeky little traffic jam near Conway Morfa, courtesy of some roadworks that turned a 20-minute jaunt into an hour of podcast indulgence. I laughed it off, windows down, breathing in that crisp, briny sea air laced with woodsmoke from someone’s early bonfire.

Pulling into the car park at last, I was gobsmacked by the first impressions. This superb second-floor apartment in the Deganwy Castle Apartments sat right in the heart of the seaside village, just a short stroll from the cluster of pubs and chip shops. Perched above the Conway Valley railway line, it commanded these jaw-dropping views across the river to Conway Castle and the misty hills beyond – the castle’s towers silhouetted against a fiery sunset, all the more dramatic in the slanting autumn light. Stepping inside felt like slipping into a warm hug; the stylish kitchen was kitted out with everything you’d need for rustling up a stew, and the sitting room? Blimey, those floor-to-ceiling bi-folding doors opened straight onto a Juliet balcony, framing the coastline like a living painting. The double bedroom and bathroom were spot-on too – simple, comfy, and just right for kicking off muddy boots after a day out.

Autumn shaped every bit of it, really. Mornings started with mist rolling off the estuary, turning the views ethereal as trains chugged below like clockwork ghosts. We’d wander down to Deganwy’s promenade, crunching through fallen leaves, the sea a moody slate-grey but alive with gulls wheeling overhead. One day, we timed it for low tide and poked around the sandy flats towards the castle, spotting waders darting about – proper wildlife documentary stuff, without the David Attenborough voiceover. Lunch was fish and chips from a takeaway on the front, eaten on a bench with steaming mugs of tea, the wind whipping up just enough to make it feel alive. Evenings, we’d fire up the oven for a roast, then fling open the balcony doors to watch the hills fade to purple, stars popping out crisp and cold.

There was this gentle moment of reflection one night, sat there with the heater humming and a glass of mulled wine (autumn treat, innit?), gazing at the castle lights twinkling across the water. I thought about how the season strips things back – no blazing sun to dazzle, just honest, quiet beauty that makes you slow down. I’d been rushing through life lately, but here, with the rustle of wind in the trees and that ever-present sea murmur, it all felt... balanced. We even nipped over to the Bodlondeb Woods for a leaf-kicking ramble, the paths carpeted in copper and red, emerging right by the castle walls for a proper perspective shift.

Spoilt for choice, we were – golf at North Wales links if the rain held off (it mostly did), or just pub-hopping in the village for live folk tunes and hearty pies. Leaving felt bittersweet, the apartment’s glow fading in the rear-view as winter loomed. If you’re chasing that autumnal Wales vibe, this is your spot – pure seasonal gold.