I’ll never forget the drive up to North Wales last autumn – leaves turning that gorgeous coppery gold all along the A55, but wouldn’t you know it, about halfway there, we hit a massive flock of sheep blocking the road near Bangor. Proper standstill, with the farmer herding them like it was no big deal. Me, stuck in the car with the kids chanting “baa baa black sheep” on repeat, wondering if we’d ever make it. Turned a three-hour journey into four, but honestly, it felt like the perfect Welsh welcome – a bit chaotic, but endearingly rural.

By the time we rolled into lower Llanbedrog, the late afternoon sun was dipping low over Cardigan Bay, painting everything in that soft, harvest glow. Heart absolutely lifted as we pulled up to this beautifully presented detached holiday home, tucked in such a quiet, desirable spot just yards from the beach. First impressions? Spot on. The place had this timeless style, designed by that architect chap who did Portmeirion – you could feel it in the elegant lines and those fabulous uninterrupted sea views from practically every room. We tumbled out, bags in hand, anticipation buzzing after the sheep delay. Stepping into the large rear enclosed garden, with the bay stretching out towards the West Wales coastline, I just stood there grinning like an idiot. Autumn’s mellow light made it magical – no summer crowds, just us and the whispering waves.

That time of year shaped everything, really. Mornings started with mist rolling in off the sea, turning beach walks into these ethereal adventures. Llanbedrog beach, with its pretty coloured beach huts all shuttered up against the cooler breeze, felt like our private playground. We’d crunch over fallen leaves mixed with sand, the kids collecting conkers from the nearby paths while I sipped coffee from a thermos, watching seals bob in the bay. No scorching heat to tire us out; instead, that crisp edge in the air sharpened every breath, making hot chocolate taste like nectar afterwards.

Afternoons, we’d amble to Plas Glyn-y-Weddw – what a gem. The art gallery’s got this outdoor theatre and cinema vibe, but in autumn, it was all about the cafe’s steaming soups and the changing exhibitions under those dramatic skies. One day, we caught a matinee film in the cosy cinema; rain pattered on the roof, but inside it was toasty, popcorn-scented bliss. Family-friendly pubs nearby dished up hearty Welsh rarebit and local ales – nothing fancy, just proper comfort food that hit the spot when the wind picked up. Local shops stocked fresh pasties and fudge, perfect for munching on benches overlooking the dunes, leaves swirling around our feet.

Evenings were pure hygge. We’d fire up the garden fire pit (enclosed space meant no worries with the little ones), toasting marshmallows as the sun set in fiery oranges over the bay. One night, staring out from the lounge windows, I had a proper moment of self-reflection – life rushing by back home, but here, with autumn’s slower pace, it all felt simpler. Work emails forgotten, just family stories and the sea’s rhythm. Laughed at myself for ever moaning about the weather; turns out, a North Wales autumn wraps you in the best kind of cosy.

We left with rosy cheeks, full bellies, and promises to return. If you’re after that seasonal sweet spot – not too hot, not too cold, just right – lower Llanbedrog in autumn is pure gold. Couldn’t recommend it more.