I’ll never forget the drive up to Porthmadog last autumn – those golden leaves carpeting the A470 like a proper Welsh welcome mat, though I nearly missed it all thanks to a cheeky little puncture just outside Dolgellau. Pumped up the tyres with the spare (cheers, AA man), and by the time we trundled into town, the late afternoon sun was dipping low, painting the estuary in that magical amber glow that screams ‘cosy holiday ahead’. Heart racing a bit from the delay, but honestly, pulling up to this first-floor apartment near the harbour felt like arriving at a hug from an old mate.

Stepping inside, we were gobsmacked by the space – three bedrooms done out just right with a double and two singles, perfect for our lot to crash after traipsing about. The bathroom’s a treat too, with its big bath begging for a long soak under the soft October light filtering through the window. But the real star? That grand arch window in the sitting room, framing the harbour like a living painting. We plonked down with mugs of tea, watching fishing boats bob on the tide as the sun set early, turning the water all fiery orange. Autumn’s shorter days meant we were straight into that ‘cosy nights in’ vibe, Smart TV flickering with a rubbish quiz show while the estuary views melted our stresses away.

The kitchen/diner was a godsend for rustling up stews with local spuds and lamb – nothing beats chopping veg while peering out at the crisp sea air rolling in. Mornings kicked off on the enclosed front patio, sipping coffee amid the rustle of turning leaves, that fresh coastal chill nipping at your cheeks. It was bracing, mind – proper autumn weather, with mist hugging the hills of Eryri National Park just beyond, making every breath feel alive.

We wandered the coastal path from Oakley Wharf to Borth y Gest most days, the path crunchy underfoot with fallen acorns, leading to those golden sands where the sea whispered rather than roared. No summer crowds, just us and a few dog-walkers, the dunes dotted with fiery gorse. Porthmadog’s high street was a delight too – popping into the shops for pasties and picking up cider from the offie, then a pint at the local pub as the evenings drew in quick. One highlight was the Ffestiniog Steam Train; we hopped on for a chug through the valley, steam puffing against the bronze foliage, leaves swirling like confetti. Felt like stepping into a Enid Blyton book, that did.

A short hop to Criccieth Beach wrapped it up nicely – we scoffed seafood at Dylan’s, oysters plump and briny, waves crashing under a slate-grey sky that somehow made it all more dramatic. Reflecting on it now, over a solo cuppa back home, I reckon autumn sharpened everything: the colours popped brighter, the quiet hit deeper, and those early dusks forced us to savour the simple stuff. No regrets about that puncture – it made the arrival all the sweeter. If you’re after a North Wales getaway that wraps you in seasonal magic, this spot’s a belter.