I’ll never forget the drive down to Woolacombe in early autumn – that crisp September weekend when the Devon air starts whispering promises of cosy nights in. We’d piled into the car from Bristol, me, my partner, and our scruffy border terrier, Monty, with the sat-nav cheerfully ignoring the inevitable hold-up just past Barnstaple. Some numpty in a caravan had decided junction 27 was the perfect spot for a full stop, turning our smooth two-hour jaunt into a three-hour crawl. Monty, bless him, took it as an invitation to lick the back window until it was a foggy masterpiece, while I muttered about how even the cows in the hedgerows seemed to be judging us. By the time we rolled into Mortehoe, the late afternoon sun was dipping low, painting the North Devon cliffs in that golden hue that screams “summer’s on its way out, but we’re not done yet.”

Pulling up to Ocean Breeze Villa 3 felt like stumbling into a hug from an old mate. Tucked just a stone’s throw from the dunes of Woolacombe Bay, this pet-friendly gem is the sort of place that makes you exhale all the city tension in one go. It’s one of those classic Devon cottages – stone walls weathered by salty winds, a thatched roof nodding to its seaside roots, and a cheeky hot tub peeking out from the private garden like it knows it’s the star of the show. We arrived as the seasonal shift was in full swing: the tourist hordes had thinned out post-summer, leaving the winding lanes blissfully empty, but the weather gods were still dishing out enough warmth to make you believe in Indian summers. Monty bounded out first, nose twitching at the briny tang carried on the breeze, while I fumbled the keys, grinning like an idiot at the sight of the sea glinting just beyond the garden fence.

Stepping inside, the first impressions hit like a warm pasty after a blustery walk. The open-plan living space was bathed in soft light filtering through big windows – perfect for that autumnal glow that turns everything honey-coloured. A wood-burning stove sat ready for action (though we didn’t need it that first evening), flanked by squishy sofas begging for a collapse. The kitchen was a dream for lazy holiday cooks: granite counters, a proper Aga vibe with modern twists, and all the gadgets you’d need to rustle up a fry-up without faffing about. Upstairs, the bedrooms were snug as a bug, with views that framed the rolling dunes and, on a clear day like ours, the endless Atlantic. Our en-suite had that rainfall shower I’d been fantasising about after the drive, and Monty claimed his spot on the pet bed straight away, tail thumping approval.

But oh, the garden – that was the real showstopper, shaped utterly by the season’s gentle handover. Early autumn in Devon means the grass is still lush from summer rains, dotted with late-blooming wildflowers, and the hot tub was steaming invitingly under a canopy of turning leaves. We cracked open a couple of local ciders from the nearby farm shop – think sharp, appley Healey’s – and sank in as the sun set, the water bubbling away the last of the traffic woes. The air had that perfect bite: cool enough for goosebumps, warm enough post-dip to lounge in towels watching Monty chase shadows. No crowds, just the distant crash of waves on Woolacombe Beach, maybe half a mile off, where the beach cafés were still open but serving more cream teas than ice creams now. It was pure magic, that seasonal sweet spot where Devon shrugs off its summer frenzy and invites you to linger.

Sitting there, bubbles popping around me, I had a quiet moment of reflection. Life’s been a whirlwind lately – work piling up, the daily grind – but this villa, arriving right as autumn tiptoed in, reminded me why we chase these escapes. It’s not about grand adventures; it’s the simple joy of a place that fits you like a favourite jumper, pets included, letting the time of year wrap you in its mellow embrace. If you’re pondering a Devon getaway, chase that early autumn window – Ocean Breeze Villa 3 is your ticket to bliss. We didn’t want to leave, and neither will you.