I’ll never forget the drive down to Pembrokeshire last autumn – those golden leaves swirling around like confetti as we trundled along the A40, dreaming of cosy firesides and bracing coastal walks. It was mid-October, that sweet spot where summer’s warmth lingers just enough to tease you, but the air’s got that crisp bite promising mulled wine and crunchy walks. Me, my other half, our two daft Labradors, and a boot full of wellies and thermoses. About 20 miles from Haverfordwest, disaster struck: a rogue pheasant decided our windscreen was its personal launchpad. Feathers everywhere, heart in my mouth, and a frantic pull-over to check the car. Miraculously, just a smudge and some startled squawks – we laughed it off as a proper Welsh welcome, though I did treat myself to a strong coffee at the next services to steady the nerves.

Pulling up to this gem of a single-storey cottage, nestled in the peaceful Little Haven Retreat just two miles from the beach, I felt that proper holiday buzz kick in. Off-road parking made unloading a doddle, and there it was – our private decking with a bubbling hot tub and those distant sea views that had me grinning like a kid. First impressions? Spot on. Stepping inside to the open-plan living space felt like sinking into a hug: the kitchen bristling with gadgets for knocking up a stew, a corner sofa begging for a sprawl, Smart TV primed for a film, and that electric fire flickering away against the autumn chill. Perfect for our pack, dogs included.

The season shaped every minute, turning what could’ve been a standard break into pure magic. Mornings started with misty dawns over the coast – we’d hop the short drive to Little Haven beach, boots on for low-tide scrambles over rocks slick with seaweed, the dogs splashing in rock pools while weak October sun filtered through scudding clouds. No summer crowds, just us and the gulls, breathing in that salty tang sharpened by the cooling air. Afternoons, we’d wander the cliffs of the Pembrokeshire Coast Path nearby, russet bracken crunching underfoot, the sea a moody slate-grey that made you feel alive. One day, a sudden squall had us scarpering back, drenched but giggling, straight into hot mugs of tea and soup from the well-stocked kitchen.

Evenings were the real treat, autumn’s early dusk drawing us in. We’d lay the dining table for roast dinners – venison from a local farm shop, naturally – then bubble in the hot tub under a starry sky, steam rising as the dogs snored inside. That fire glowing while we binged a cheesy thriller? Bliss. I had a quiet moment one night, staring out at the darkening horizon, reflecting on how these shorter days force you to slow down, savour the simple stuff. No rushing about; just proper quality time, wrapped in woollies and warmth.

A few days in, we nipped to nearby Broad Haven for fish and chips wrapped in paper, eaten on the prom as waves crashed under harvest moon glow. The dogs chased shadows, we dodged puddles, and I thought, this is it – autumn in Pembrokeshire doesn’t shout, it whispers, and boy, does it deliver. Left feeling recharged, windswept, and already plotting a return. If you’re after that seasonal soul-soother, this corner of Wales in fall is unbeatable.