I’ll never forget the drive down to the Gower Peninsula last autumn – leaves turning that gorgeous coppery gold, the air already crisp enough to make you reach for the heater. Me and the missus were buzzing with that holiday anticipation, you know, the kind where you’ve got a playlist of sea shanties on repeat and a boot full of wellies. But typical me, about halfway there on the M4, I took a wrong turn onto some winding B-road near Swansea, convinced I was being clever with the sat-nav. Ended up in a queue of tractors, stuck behind a hay bale the size of a small house. Twenty minutes later, we’re laughing it off over emergency pasties from a farm shop, finally rolling into Reynoldston just as the sun dipped low, painting the hedges in that perfect October glow.

Pulling up to our spot – this cracking 5* luxury pad tucked away in the village – we were gobsmacked straight away. It had that welcoming vibe, all cosy and plush, like it was made for kicking back after a day in the chill. First impressions? Spot on. The views out the back straight to the rolling fields, already misty with that autumn dew, had us grinning like kids.

Autumn shaped the whole trip, really. Mornings started with frost on the grass, so we’d wrap up in scarves and head out for walks along the cliffs at Rhossili Bay, just a short hop away. The bracken was this fiery rust, crunching underfoot, and the sea was a moody slate grey, waves crashing with that proper wild energy you only get when summer crowds have scarpered. No battling for parking – just us, the dogs (well, other people’s, since ours stayed home), and the wind whipping up a proper appetite. We’d mooch over to Port Eynon for fish and chips from the van, eaten on the beach with sand blowing everywhere, the cold making them taste even better. Proper nostalgia hit me there, thinking back to childhood holidays when Mum would pack Thermos flasks of soup.

Afternoons were for pottering around the property, firing up the log burner as the light faded early – that’s the joy of October, innit? Snuggled in with mugs of tea, watching the mist roll in over the dunes at Llangennith. One evening, we even caught a massive harvest moon rising, turning the whole peninsula silver. I had a quiet moment of self-reflection then, staring into the flames: life’s too short not to chase these simple joys, especially when the season wraps it all in such magic.

We ventured to the local pub in Reynoldston for a pint and a roast – game pie, naturally, with all the seasonal veg. No long treks; everything felt close and intimate, the autumn hush making it ours. Light humour came when I slipped on wet leaves trying to photograph a spider’s web glistening with frost – ended up with a muddy bum and a brilliant story. By the end of the week, we were proper hooked on Gower’s autumn charm: fewer people, bigger skies, and that fresh, earthy smell everywhere. If you’re thinking of going, do it now – before winter bites. Pure bliss.