Mine's a pint: The Pele

Some days you could just murder a pint. And some days, you can storm a medieval fortification to get one.

The Pele at Corbridge, once a mini-castle for the local vicar, is now one of Britain’s most unique micropubs. First built in 1315, the tower has centuries of history on tap; you can find stonework here dating back to Roman times, when the settlement of Corstopitum grew up near a bridge over the Tyne. It’s not hard to see how those pieces of history gave the village its name.

This has been border territory for thousands of years. We’re just a few miles south of Hadrian’s Wall at the northern limits of the Roman Empire. Today, Scotland begins a little further north and, during the lively history of neighbourly disputes, this territory was firmly in the lawless badlands. Reivers roamed the land, not a head of cattle was safe from cross-border kidnapping and a 14th-century vicar of St. Andrew’s church was not about to put his faith too firmly in divine providence when it came to securing his accommodation. Never mind a door always open to all. He fancied something tall, imposing. A single, defensible point of access. Difficult to burn down. And so, Corbridge got its Pele tower.

It wasn’t unusual. Every other settlement in the neighbourhood had something similar. The surprise is that this one has survived. Relative calm in Anglo-Scottish relations encouraged the church to build a more conventional vicarage in the 17th century and the tower fell into disuse and disrepair. By 1910, it needed major renovation. Once it gave protection, later, perhaps, it was protected by its location in the heart of the village. Next to the church, just of the marketplace, still a prominent landmark even if long empty.

Today it’s still one of the finest extant examples of a Pele tower and would be well worth a visit even if it wasn’t also a classy micropub. Happily repurposed, it now has a bright future. Nestling in a vibrant, artsy shopping district, it’s perfectly placed for the weekend dog walkers and potterers. With Corbridge rated as one of Northumberland’s most attractive villages, there are plenty of both. And venturing inside (it is a bit of a venture, through an arched doorway low enough to demand a slight stoop, if not a full-blown duck) offers a choice of three rooms on three levels.

The ground floor has the feel of a drinker’s den, with service always at hand and an assortment of games – of the chess or nine-men’s-morris variety – available. Up a narrow stairway – challenging with a full pint pot, plus sausage roll, plus bag – the second floor is more spacious. Prime seats by the fire attract the ladies who lunch or at least drop in for coffee and cake. Up again, and a modern glass balcony, sensitively incorporated into the ancient building, offers a surprisingly contemporary vibe for anyone who feels eager to tackle the climb.

That’s fitting. The Pele isn’t locked into its own heritage. Embracing the micropub idea, it supports local breweries – and has its own house ale provided by the nearby Allendale Brewery. There’s no hot food, but snacks include a range of sausage rolls baked in the village, plus the usual peanuts and crisps. When I visited, there was also a good selection of brews from the First & Last Brewery on the edge of the Northumberland National Park. If you’re driving – and many coming to Corbridge will be behind the wheel – there’s a house coffee blend. It’s not the kind of beer-snob place where you’ll feel uncomfortable ordering a latte.

As well as supporting local artisan food and drink, the Pele also offers a space for local performers. Music nights are fairly frequent, and spoken word events like to make the most of the natural drama of a spectacular setting.

The only caveats are opening hours: it’s closed Mon-Wed, except for private functions. And, perhaps, a note of caution about those narrow stone stairs. Sober, it’s not too stiff of a climb. Tipsy, it might not be wholly recommended!

Cheers! This is the second of my occasional look at distinctive and enjoyable pubs around Britain and beyond. If you enjoyed it, please like, comment and subscribe (all free). If you really liked it, you can buy me a metaphorical coffee (or more likely pint). And please support local independent pubs, bars and breweries: life with nothing but chain pubs and mass-produced, standardised drinks would be a drearily predictable affair.

Previous pints: The Oxford Bar, Edinburgh