I’ll never forget the drive down to West Wales last autumn – the leaves were just turning that glorious coppery gold, carpeting the roads like nature’s own welcome mat. Me, the wife, our two kids and the dog piled into the car from Cardiff, full of excitement for a proper family getaway. But about halfway there, disaster struck: a massive flock of sheep decided to stage a sit-in right across the narrow lane near Neath. We sat idling for what felt like hours, engine ticking, kids moaning about needing the loo, while the farmer herded them with all the urgency of a Sunday stroll. I had a right chuckle to myself – typical Wales, innit? Delays like that just build the anticipation, and by the time we rolled up to our holiday home in Cynonville, we were buzzing.

First impressions? Blimey, it was love at first sight. This cracking three-bedroom house, tucked in a quiet semi-rural spot just 2.5 miles from Pontrhydyfen, looked like it was made for cosy autumn escapes. Off-road parking for two cars meant no scrabbling about in the drizzle, and as we unpacked, the autumn sun peeked through the clouds, casting a warm glow over the tasteful interiors. The kids dashed straight out to the spacious garden with its seating and private hot tub – perfect for bubbling away the evening chill once the days shortened.

Autumn shaped every bit of our stay, turning what could’ve been a standard break into something magical. Mornings started with mist rolling down the Afan Valley, the air crisp and alive with that earthy scent of damp leaves and woodsmoke from nearby chimneys. We’d fire up the well-equipped galley kitchen – everything a self-catering chef needs, from a solid oven to all the pots for a hearty stew – and rustle up porridge with local honey before heading out. A short drive took us to the Afan Forest Park trails, where the foliage was at its peak, paths crunching underfoot with fallen acorns. The kids loved it, scampering ahead like feral squirrels, while the dog bounded through the undergrowth, tail a blur. We even spotted a few deer, their coats blending with the rusty bracken – proper wildlife magic that summer just can’t match.

Afternoons were for gentle wanders around Pontrhydyfen’s quiet lanes, popping into the village shop for pasties and chatting with locals about the harvest. Evenings? Pure bliss. As the sun dipped early, painting the sky in fiery oranges, we’d sink into the hot tub, steam rising into the cool air, sipping hot chocolate (with a splash of something stronger for the grown-ups). One night, under a clear starry sky – no light pollution out here – I had a proper moment of reflection, bubbles up to my chin, thinking how these shorter days force you to slow down, appreciate the family time without the rush of barbecues or beach days.

The season’s mellow vibes made it all so restorative. No crowds, just us, the rustling woods, and that welcoming house feeling like a hug. We left refreshed, promising to return next autumn – sheep blockages and all. What a gem.