I’ll never forget the drive down to Pembrokeshire last autumn – those golden leaves swirling like confetti as we trundled along the A40, only for the sat-nav to chuck us into a cheeky detour through some narrow lanes near Neyland. We ended up behind a tractor doing about 10 miles an hour, me tapping the wheel impatiently while the kids in the back cheered it on like it was a parade float. A proper comedy of errors, but by the time we crested the hill towards Cosheston, the stress melted away. There it was, this elegant cottage nestled in the Pembrokeshire Coast National Park, just 4.4 miles from Pembroke Dock, with the Cleddau Estuary twinkling under that crisp October sun. My heart did a little flip – we’d made it, and it looked even better than the photos.

Stepping inside felt like slipping into a warm hug after the chill of the journey. The open-plan living kitchen and dining room was stylish and cosy, with an electric fire flickering away, chasing off the autumn nip. Perfect for families, they’d thoughtfully kitted it out with a travel cot, highchair and stairgate, so we could unpack without the usual chaos. And out back? A hot tub steaming invitingly, estuary views stretching out like a painting. First impressions? Spot on. I stood there grinning like an idiot, already plotting lazy evenings under the stars.

Autumn shaped every bit of our stay in the best way. The coastal paths around Cosheston were carpeted in crunchy leaves, turning a simple walk into a treasure hunt for conkers with the little ones. We’d bundle up in woollies and wellies, the sea mist rolling in off the estuary, carrying that briny tang that makes your cheeks glow. One morning, we headed to the nearby shore at Liddeston – just a short drive – where the tide pools were alive with crabs scuttling about, and the kids poked around with sticks, faces lit up by the low golden light. No summer crowds, just us and the seals barking in the distance. It was magical, that quiet season magic where everything feels more vivid, less hurried.

Evenings were pure bliss. We’d fire up the hot tub as the sun dipped, leaves drifting down like fiery rain, bubbles soothing away the day’s adventures. Inside, we’d rustle up shepherd’s pie – proper comfort food for the cooler nights – and play board games by the fire, the estuary darkening outside the large windows. One night, a gentle rain pattered on the roof, and I caught myself reflecting on how we’d needed this. Life back home had been a whirlwind of school runs and deadlines; here, autumn slowed us down, made us notice the little things, like the way the light caught the changing colours on the water. I’m not one for getting soppy, but it hit me – sometimes you don’t know how frayed you are until you unwind in a place like this.

We squeezed in a family ramble along the estuary trails, foraging for blackberries that were still plump despite the season’s turn, then a quick stop at the local Cosheston shop for pasties and treats. No need to venture far; everything felt perfectly contained, wrapped in that mellow autumn glow. By the time we packed up, reluctantly, I was already daydreaming about returning next year. Pembrokeshire in autumn? It’s not just a holiday; it’s a reset button for the soul.