I’ll never forget the drive down to Saundersfoot last autumn – the leaves were turning that gorgeous coppery gold, carpeting the A roads like nature’s own welcome mat. Me and my mate Dave had piled into the car from Cardiff, full of beans about a cheeky weekend away, but about halfway there, disaster struck. I’d forgotten to check the tyres properly, and we got a puncture just past Carmarthen. Sat on the hard shoulder in the drizzle, laughing our heads off while the AA bloke sorted it, we reckoned it was a sign: this holiday was going to be properly character-building. An hour’s delay later, we rolled into the village, hearts lifting as the sea came into view, all sparkly under that low October sun.

Pulling up to our first-floor apartment, I felt that proper buzz of anticipation – you know, that mix of “what if it’s rubbish?” and “please let there be a sea view”. But blimey, first impressions? Spot on. It’s this bright, airy spot right on the West Wales coast, with views over the communal gardens – all those autumn shrubs bursting with berries – and straight out to the sea. Perfect for us two lads sharing, with its own parking spot and just a short stroll to the village centre. Stepping inside, the open-plan living space hit us like a warm hug: stylish, comfy, with a kitchen kitted out to the nines, dishwasher and all. We cracked open a couple of tins and whipped up spag bol, gazing out at the waves as the light faded to that moody twilight blue.

Autumn shaped the whole trip in the best way – it wasn’t peak summer madness, but that crisp edge to the air made everything feel alive and intimate. Mornings, we’d wander down to the sandy beach, boots crunching on shells washed up by the recent storms, the sea all frothy and wild. No crowds, just us chucking a frisbee about, pretending we were pros until Dave face-planted in the sand. Hilarious. Afternoons were for ambling along the coastal path towards the little cove at Sunnybank – the bracken glowing russet, gulls wheeling overhead. We’d stop for fish and chips from the village takeaway, wrapping up in coats against the bracing breeze, salt spray nipping at our cheeks. That time of year, Saundersfoot feels like it’s keeping its best secrets for you: the harbour boats bobbing gently, the tide pools teeming with crabs we poked at like kids.

One evening, as the sun dipped low and painted the gardens in fiery oranges, we sat on the balcony with mugs of tea, watching fishing boats chug out. It got me reflecting a bit – life back home’s non-stop, innit? But here, with the leaves swirling and that salty chill, it was like the season was nudging me to slow down, breathe deep. No regrets about the puncture; it made the arrival sweeter.

We even squeezed in a pint at the Glen pub, overlooking the bay as dusk settled, the air humming with that autumn hush. Next morning, a quick yomp to Coppet Hill for panoramic views – misty valleys rolling out, the sea a shimmering slate. Back at the flat, dishwasher whirring away our lunch mess, we packed a picnic (cheese sarnies, naturally) and headed to the beach again, where the low sun turned the waves to liquid gold. Autumn Saundersfoot isn’t about sunbathing; it’s pub chats by log fires, windy walks that clear your head, and that cosy self-catering vibe where you feel properly at home.

Packing up on Sunday, with the gardens looking even prettier in the soft light, I was already plotting a return. If you’re after a seaside escape that lets the season steal the show, this is it – proper magic.