I’ll never forget the drive to Reef Retreat in Pembrokeshire last autumn – that crisp October weekend when the leaves were turning gold and the air had that proper bite to it, making you glad you’d packed an extra jumper. We’d set off from Haverfordwest early, the A40 winding through those rolling hills dotted with sheep, but about five miles out, disaster struck: I’d forgotten to fill up the petrol tank back at the station. The warning light blinked on just as we crested a hill near Broad Haven, and there we were, coasting into a layby with the gauge on empty. “Classic me,” I laughed to my mate Dave, as we phoned for a can from the local garage. Twenty minutes later, sorted, but it was a daft reminder that even a short hop in Wales can catch you out if you’re not paying attention.

By midday, we rolled up to Reef Retreat, this cosy stone cottage tucked away in a quiet spot overlooking the coast, no more than a stone’s throw from Haverfordwest’s buzz but feeling worlds away. Autumn in Pembrokeshire hits different – the summer crowds have scarpered, leaving the place all to yourself, with that low golden light slanting across the sea and the bracken on the cliffs glowing rusty orange. We unloaded the car under a sky heavy with those dramatic Welsh clouds, the kind that promise rain but mostly just brood. The cottage door creaked open to a waft of woodsmoke from the log burner – already lit by the hosts, bless them – and I thought, right, this is exactly what I needed after a mad year at work.

First impressions? Pure magic, shaped entirely by the season. Stepping into the lounge, with its beamed ceiling and squishy sofas facing those massive windows, you’re hit by the view: the Irish Sea churning grey-green below, waves tipped with white from the brisk westerlies. October’s wild weather had whipped it up perfectly – not stormy enough to keep you in, but lively, with gulls wheeling about like they owned the place. We cracked open a brew and just sat there, mesmerised, as the sun dipped low, painting the horizon in fiery pinks and purples. It’s that time of year when the light lingers just long enough to make everything feel cinematic, without the midges or the heat haze ruining the shot.

Wandering out for a nose around, the garden path crunched underfoot with fallen leaves, leading to a patio where you could practically hear the seals barking from the beach cove half a mile off. Pembrokeshire in autumn smells like salt and damp earth, and Reef Retreat captures it spot on – no fancy pool or gym, just proper, unfussy charm. We nipped down to the nearby coastal path, boots squelching on muddy trails lined with blackberries (a bit past their best, but we scoffed a few tart ones anyway). The wind tugged at our coats, cheeks rosy from the chill, and I had one of those gentle moments: staring out at the endless waves, I realised how knackered I’d been, chasing deadlines all summer. This place, with its seasonal hush – no screaming kids or traffic hum – let me breathe, properly reset.

Back inside as dusk fell early (another autumn perk, cosier evenings), we rustled up fish and chips from the local in Haverfordwest – proper cod, golden batter, wrapped in paper that steamed up the car windows on the way back. The cottage kitchen was a dream: Aga humming warmly, shelves stocked with tea towels and those quirky Welsh mugs. We sprawled by the fire, telly on low with some rubbish quiz show, pints in hand, laughing about my petrol faux pas. “You’re a liability, mate,” Dave ribbed, and fair play, I am. But Reef Retreat? First impressions nailed it – a snug bolthole where October’s moody beauty turns a simple stay into something soul-stirring. If you’re after that, book it before winter bites.