I’ll never forget the drive down to Pembrokeshire last autumn – the leaves were turning that perfect golden-orange, carpeting the roads like nature’s own welcome mat. We’d piled into the car from Cardiff early doors, kids buzzing with excitement, me navigating with a dodgy signal on my phone. About halfway, disaster struck: a rogue pheasant decided to play chicken with our tyres, sending us into a frantic swerve. Heart in mouth, we pulled over, checked the bumper (fine, phew), and laughed it off over thermos tea. That little mishap only ramped up the anticipation – by the time we wound through the leafy lanes near Boncath, I was proper giddy for some proper downtime.

Pulling up to the cottage, my first impressions were spot on. It’s this gorgeous, traditional-style place tucked away in the countryside, blending old-school charm with smart modern touches – just right for a family like ours. Stepping inside felt like a warm hug after the crisp October air; the living room with its cosy sitting area and crackling woodburning fire was calling our names straight away. We dumped the bags and collapsed in front of it, the slate floors cool underfoot but the flames chasing away any chill. Autumn’s mellow light filtered through the windows, turning everything golden – pure magic.

The season shaped every bit of our stay, really. Mornings started with mist rolling over the fields, perfect for wrapping up in scarves and heading out for walks along the nearby paths. Boncath’s so quaint, just a short stroll away, with its little village hall and that cosy pub where we grabbed pints of Brains and hearty ploughman’s. The air had that fresh, earthy bite – damp leaves crunching under boots, fungi popping up everywhere like hidden treasures. One day, we wandered to the River Nevern, swollen from recent rains, spotting dippers bobbing about and the odd otter slip. Kids loved it, though I did have a dad moment slipping on wet mud – gentle reminder that I’m not as nimble as I used to be!

Evenings were all about that woodburner glow. The kitchen’s traditional setup meant we rustled up proper autumn feasts – slow-cooked Welsh lamb stew with local spuds, followed by apple crumble from the windfalls we foraged nearby. No fancy gadgets needed; it felt authentic, like stepping back to simpler times. We played board games till the fire died down, rain pattering on the roof – that soft Pembrokeshire drizzle that makes you grateful for a snug roof.

One reflective evening, staring into the embers, I thought how autumn strips things bare, doesn’t it? No summer crowds, just us and the landscape winding down. It forced us to slow, chat properly, make memories without distractions. We even squeezed in a blustery beach trip to Ceibwr Bay, all dramatic cliffs and foaming waves crashing under grey skies – exhilarating, not half. Left feeling recharged, belly full, and already plotting a return. Pembrokeshire in autumn? Absolute belter.