I’ll never forget the drive to our Exclusive 3 Bedroom Lodge near Salisbury in Wiltshire – a proper autumn jaunt that had me cursing my sat-nav right from the off. It was mid-October, you see, when the leaves are turning that glorious coppery gold and the air’s got that crisp bite that makes you fancy a proper cuppa. We’d piled into the car from London early doors, me, my mate Dave, his wife Sarah, and our two lads, all buzzing for a three-day getaway. But about 20 minutes from the lodge, with the hedgerows bursting with fiery reds and the mist rolling low over the fields like something out of a Brontë novel, my ancient TomTom decided to pack up. “Recalculating,” it droned, before going silent as the grave. Cue me swearing under my breath while Dave chuckled and pulled out his phone – classic me, always one minor tech fail away from a full-blown comedy of errors.

We arrived just after lunch, bumping gently down the narrow lane fringed with those ancient Wiltshire oaks shedding leaves like confetti. The lodge itself? Blimey, first impressions didn’t disappoint. Tucked in a peaceful spot on the edge of Salisbury, it’s one of those modern-yet-cosy wooden retreats that screams “get away from it all” without feeling remotely poncy. As we crunched over the gravel drive, the autumn sun broke through the clouds, casting this warm, honeyed glow over the place. Sleeps six comfortably, with three bedrooms done up in soft neutrals and tartan throws – perfect for our crew. I stepped inside, and the smell hit me first: woodsmoke from the log burner we hadn’t even lit yet, mingled with that fresh, earthy scent you only get in proper countryside air this time of year.

Unpacking was a laugh – the lads claimed the twin room with its cheeky bunk beds, while Dave and Sarah nabbed the master with the en-suite. My room overlooked the garden, where the dew was still clinging to the grass like tiny jewels, and beyond that, you could just make out the spire of Salisbury Cathedral piercing the hazy sky. No faffing about with check-in; the key safe was a godsend after our sat-nav saga. We cracked open a bottle of red (local Wiltshire wine, naturally – cheeky find from a farm shop en route) and just soaked it in. Outside, the seasonal magic was everywhere. The garden was a riot of fallen leaves, perfect for an impromptu kickabout with the boys before the light faded. That golden hour in October? Magic. The low sun turned everything amber, and the chill creeping in made wrapping up in scarves feel like the cosiest treat.

First evening, we wandered a stone’s throw to a nearby pub – the sort of proper boozer with beams older than my nan and a roaring fire. Pints of bitter and pie that stuck to your ribs against the autumn nip. Back at the lodge, we got the wood burner going (logs stacked ready, bless the hosts), and it crackled away as we played cards by candlelight – the wind whispering through the trees outside like an old storyteller. Funny how October sharpens the senses; that slight frost on the bedroom window come morning made the hot toast and coffee taste ten times better. No telly distractions, just us, the flickering flames, and the distant hoot of an owl.

Sitting there on that first night, mug in hand, I had a proper moment of reflection. Life’s been a whirlwind lately – work piling up, kids growing too fast. But here, in this lodge cocooned by Wiltshire’s autumn embrace, everything slowed. The season’s mellow decay – pumpkins glowing on doorsteps, mist cloaking the close-cropped fields – reminded me to savour the now, before winter bares it all. First impressions? Spot on. This place, wrapped in October’s gentle hush, was the reset we didn’t know we needed. Can’t wait to see what the next morning brings.