I

used to hate autumn. To me, it signified the End Of Fun. It was the Sunday night of the seasons, or the seasonal equivalent of the second of January (the worst day of the year, surely?), when people say treasonous things like they’re ‘looking forward to getting back to normal, post-holidays’. I never wanted to get back to normal.

Autumn meant the end of adventure, the end of months spent backpacking around wherever I could afford. The end of the excitement of the unknown, of picking up summer jobs abroad in bars or youth hostels or vineyards, spinning out my meagre travel money by any means possible. And particularly the end of those exquisite, intense brief encounters that flare up out of nowhere and end on a high, because one of you is always heading back to the airport. And now, even though I don’t get those months of travelling any more, I still want to eke out my favourite season to postpone that end-of-summer melancholy for as long as possible and fly south like the swallows.

LA SULTANA OUALIDIA, MOROCCO

Oualidia is a southern Morocco fishing village around two hours’ drive from Casablanca, known for its oysters, pretty lagoons and road-lesstravelled vibe.

Just outside the village is La Sultana, a fortress-like building with 12 rooms, including one in a treehouse, looking over the lagoon and a peaceful stretch of beach. Inside it’s all grand archways,