I’ll never forget the drive down to Pembrokeshire last autumn – those golden leaves carpeting the roads like nature’s own welcome mat. Me and the other half piled into the car from Cardiff, buzzing with that pre-holiday excitement, only for the sat-nav to chuck us into a massive traffic jam just past Narberth. Some cheeky roadworks had us crawling along for what felt like hours, and I ended up belting out terrible renditions of Welsh folk tunes to pass the time. By the time we turned off towards Efailwen, the sun was dipping low, painting the Preseli Hills in fiery oranges and reds. Proper autumn magic.

Pulling up to this cracking barn conversion on the village outskirts, we were gobsmacked. It’s got this contemporary vibe, all sleek lines and cosy nooks, with jaw-dropping views over the rolling countryside that just screamed ‘relaxation station’. We parked right by the entrance, bags in hand, already plotting our first cuppa while soaking in those hills. Stepping inside, the well-equipped kitchen-diner hit us first – perfect for rustling up a stew with the season’s bounty. That woodburning stove was a godsend too, crackling away as the evening chill crept in. Up on the mezzanine lounge, we sprawled on the sofas, TV flickering, balcony doors flung open to the crisp air and the rustle of leaves in the breeze. Down the hall, the two ground-floor bedrooms were spot on: plush king with en-suite for us, and a comfy twin next door, both opening straight onto the patio.

The real star, though, was that enclosed garden – our private outdoor haven, all decked out for al fresco vibes. Autumn’s mellow hues turned it into a dream: fiery ferns framing the hot tub (which we bubbled in under a canopy of stars, steaming against the cool night air) and a barbecue setup begging for toasting marshmallows. It was pet-friendly too, which had our little terrier in seventh heaven, chasing falling leaves like they were the best toy ever.

The season shaped everything, really. Mornings started misty, with dew-kissed fields begging for a stroll into the Preseli Hills – Bluestone Country, they call it, and you could almost feel the ancient vibes in the frosty air. We cycled gentle trails, leaves crunching under tyres, stopping for thermos flasks of tea. Nearby, Scolton Park’s 60 acres of woodland were a riot of copper and gold, otters splashing in the streams at the Welsh Wildlife Centre. One afternoon, we hiked to Ffynone Waterfall, the cascade thundering louder after autumn rains, mist rising like fairy smoke.

For grub, we wandered to The Angel Inn for hearty pub lunches – think roast dinners with seasonal veg that warmed you from the inside out. Caffi Beca up the road did cracking home-cooked cakes, ideal when the woodburner had us feeling too snug to cook. A potter to Pembrokeshire Llamas for a trek was hilarious; those fluffy beasts plodding through the crunchy underfoot, ignoring our excited chatter.

Looking back, that little mishap on the journey was a blessing – it made arriving feel like unwrapping a gift. In the quiet of autumn, with its soft light and earthy scents, this place nudged me to slow down, breathe deeper. No rush, just us, the hills, and the turning year. If you’re after a Pembrokeshire getaway that hugs the season, this is your spot.