I’ll never forget the drive up to Kelsall last autumn – the leaves were turning that glorious coppery gold, carpeting the lanes like someone had scattered a million pound coins. Me and my partner were buzzing with that holiday anticipation, you know, the kind where you’ve got the playlist on shuffle and a flask of tea steaming up the windows. But typical me, about halfway there, I took a wrong turn onto some narrow Cheshire backroad, and we ended up dodging a flock of sheep that had decided the tarmac was prime grazing. Cue a ten-minute detour, a bit of gentle bickering, and us laughing it off as the perfect start to our getaway. By the time we pulled into the private driveway, the sun was dipping low, painting everything in that soft, harvest-time glow.

First impressions? Blimey, it was love at first sight. This charming first-floor apartment right in the heart of Kelsall felt like a cosy hug after the chill of the journey. We climbed the stairs to this welcoming studio-style living space – nothing flashy, just perfectly pitched for us two. The kitchenette was nicely appointed for knocking up a quick supper, the king-size bed looked like a cloud begging to be jumped on, and that shower room promised a steaming hot rinse to wash away the road dust. Autumn’s crisp edge made it all the more inviting; we cracked open the windows to let in the earthy scent of fallen leaves mingling with woodsmoke from nearby chimneys.

The season really shaped our whole stay – it was mid-October, that sweet spot before the real bite of winter sets in. Mornings started with mist rolling over the fields, turning the countryside into a proper watercolour painting. We’d wrap up in scarves and wellies for gentle walks around Delamere Forest, just a stone’s throw away. The forest paths were a crunch underfoot, alive with rustling bracken and the odd squirrel hoarding nuts like it was auditioning for a Christmas advert. One afternoon, we stumbled on a hidden clearing carpeted in mushrooms – I half-expected a fairy ring and a cheeky goblin to pop out. Light humour there: I tried foraging like some Instagram guru, only to pick a dodgy toadstool that the dog-walker nearby kindly identified as “best left alone, love.” Lesson learned – stick to the berries.

Evenings were pure magic, thanks to those shorter days. We’d hunker down with a stew bubbling on the hob, watching the twilight fade through the windows. The king-size bed became our fortress against the cooling air, duvet piled high, with the peaceful quiet wrapping around us like a blanket. One night, staring at the stars popping out earlier than usual – Orion’s belt winking like it knew we were on holiday – I had a proper moment of self-reflection. Work had been manic, life rushing by, but here in this tranquil spot, with autumn whispering change outside, I realised how much I needed this reset. Just breathing it all in felt restorative.

Local spots kept us grounded too – a potter around Kelsall’s delish farm shop for seasonal squash and apple pies, or a pint in the village pub where the fire crackled and locals swapped tales of the recent harvest. No need to venture far; the area’s picturesque nooks, laced with that golden foliage, were plenty. By the end of our week, we were hooked – autumn turned a simple holiday let into something utterly soul-nourishing. If you’re after a couples’ retreat that lets the season steal the show, this is your spot.