I’ll never forget the drive down to Dorset last autumn – that golden stretch of September when the leaves are just starting to blush and the air has that crisp edge promising cosy nights in. I’d booked Hazelwood 2 at Pinewood Retreat near Lyme Regis for a three-day jaunt, craving a proper unplug from London life. The satnav was my faithful companion, but about 20 miles from the coast, it decided to throw a wobbly. “Recalculating,” it chirped cheerily as I missed a turning onto the A35, looping me through some winding lanes lined with hedgerows heavy with blackberries. I ended up picking a few tart ones straight from the bush while swearing under my breath – a classic me moment, turning a minor detour into an impromptu forage. Laughable now, but it set the tone: this was Dorset in harvest time, unhurried and full of surprises.

By the time I rolled up to Pinewood Retreat in the late afternoon, the sun was dipping low, painting the sky in those fiery oranges and pinks that only autumn delivers. Hazelwood 2 sits tucked away in this peaceful wooded spot, just a couple of miles from Lyme Regis, surrounded by pines whispering in the breeze. Pulling into the gravel drive, I was hit with that instant “ahh” feeling – the cottage is a picture of rustic charm, all stone walls and a thatched roof that looked like it belonged in a Beatrix Potter tale. The seasonal shift made it magical; fallen leaves crunched underfoot, carpeting the garden in russet and gold, while the air smelled of damp earth and woodsmoke from a neighbour’s chimney.

Stepping inside was like slipping into a warm hug. The open-plan living area greeted me first, with its exposed beams and a wood-burning stove already laid with kindling – perfect for the evenings when that autumn chill creeps in. I dumped my bags and flicked the kettle on, peering out the window at the private patio. It overlooked a little copse where squirrels were darting about, hoarding nuts like tiny panic-buyers prepping for winter. The light was fading fast, that soft, hazy glow unique to this time of year, turning everything ethereal. I nipped out for a quick wander around the retreat’s grounds before it got too dark. The paths were lined with ferns turning bronze, and the undergrowth rustled with the last of the summer birds flitting about. It felt alive, yet peaceful – Dorset’s countryside in full autumn pomp, shedding its green summer coat for something more introspective.

First impressions? Spot on. The kitchen was a dream for lazy self-catering – well-stocked with everything from cafetière to chopping boards, and I rustled up a simple supper of local cheddar (nabbed from a farm shop en route) on thick-cut toast, paired with a flask of tea. As twilight deepened, I lit the stove, and oh, the glow! Crackling flames danced against the flagged stone floor, chasing away the day’s travel weariness. Sat there with a book, listening to the wind rustle the pines outside, I had one of those gentle moments of self-reflection. Life in the city rushes you along like a torrent, but here, in this pocket of Dorset autumn, time slowed to a meander. I realised I’d been so caught up in the hustle that I’d forgotten how restorative it is to just be – no deadlines, no notifications, just the simple rhythm of seasons turning.

That first evening shaped the whole stay, really. The next morning dawned misty, with dew clinging to spiderwebs like jewels, inviting a short stroll to the nearby coastal path – but that’s a tale for another day. Arriving at Hazelwood 2 felt like Dorset had rolled out its autumnal welcome mat just for me, mishap and all. If you’re after a retreat that lets the season seep into your soul, this is the spot. Utterly smashing.