I’ll never forget the drive to Callow Lodge 5 in Shropshire last autumn – that golden time of year when the leaves turn all shades of amber and the air has that crisp bite that makes you feel properly alive. It was mid-October, and I’d set off from Shrewsbury early, fancying a leisurely hour’s pootle through the countryside to this cosy little lodge I’d booked for a three-day getaway. The sat-nav was playing nice at first, leading me along those winding lanes flanked by hedgerows heavy with blackberries and the odd splash of fiery red from a wayward tree. But then, classic me, I took a wrong turn near Condover – nothing major, just ended up looping back on myself after spotting a sign for Attingham Park that I swore wasn’t there five minutes before. I laughed it off, blaming the seasonal fog rolling in from the nearby hills, which turned the whole detour into a misty adventure rather than a faff.

By the time I pulled up to Callow Lodge 5, the afternoon light was fading fast, that soft, slanting sun you only get in autumn painting everything in warm hues. Tucked away in a peaceful spot just a stone’s throw from Shrewsbury, it’s the sort of place that screams “proper Shropshire hideaway” – a smart, detached lodge with a verandah that practically begs for a cuppa while watching the world go by. I parked on the drive, gravel crunching under the tyres, and stepped out into air thick with the scent of damp earth and fallen leaves. The season had worked its magic here; the garden was a riot of rustling copper beeches and oaks shedding their coats, carpeting the lawn in a crunchy mosaic that my boots couldn’t resist scuffing through.

First impressions? Blimey, it was love at first sight. Unlocking the door with the key safe code (smooth as, no fumbling), I wandered in, and the warmth hit me like a hug. Autumn’s chill outside made the wood-burning stove in the lounge an absolute godsend – I had it crackling away in minutes, flames dancing behind the glass as I dumped my bags. The place is spot-on for two, with a comfy double bed upstairs that looked like it’d swallow you whole after a day’s exploring. Downstairs, the kitchen was kitted out proper: Belfast sink, oven ready for a roast, and a dining area with views straight out to the garden where the leaves were swirling in a gentle breeze. I couldn’t help but chuckle at myself, standing there with a brew in hand, thinking how I’d nearly missed this because of my daft navigation skills.

That first evening shaped up perfectly thanks to the season. I nipped out for a short stroll along the nearby footpaths – nothing strenuous, just enough to work up an appetite. The fields around Callow Lodge were glowing in the low light, sheep dotted about like fluffy commas on a parchment landscape, and the odd squirrel darting through the undergrowth, hoarding nuts like it knew winter was lurking. Back inside, I rustled up a simple supper of local sausages (grabbed from a Shrewsbury butcher en route) and veg, the kind of meal that tastes better when the nights are drawing in. Cosying up by the fire with a glass of red, listening to the wind rustle the trees outside, I had one of those gentle moments of reflection. Life back home had been a whirl, but here, in this unpretentious Shropshire bolthole, autumn stripped it all back. No rush, no screens pinging – just the simple joy of a lodge that felt like it was made for evenings like this, reminding me to slow down and savour the turning of the year.

Wandering the verandah the next morning (day two already feeling like an extension of that golden arrival), mist clinging to the meadows within easy reach, I knew I’d nailed the timing. Callow Lodge 5 isn’t flashy, but in autumn, with its rural charm amplified by the season’s mellow fruitfulness, it’s pure magic. If you’re after first impressions that linger like woodsmoke on your jumper, book it for October – you won’t regret it.