Date: November 2024
It’s back to Greenwich Mean Time here in the North East of England as the dark nights roll us into the late stages of autumn and on to winter.
The day I visited The Beresford Arms was a very grey Sunday. That type of permagrey that can rest over the UK at this time of year and set in for what feels like forever. It’s the type of weather when, although there is no fog, you feel as though you can barely see more than a few metres in front of you, and what you can see is so drab and lifeless that it ceases to possess the meaning you associate with it in your mind. Things become nothing but objects, resting silently until spring, when blue sky and sun return to reanimate them again.
My friend described autumn as watching someone die. That is why he prefers winter. He said it was more comforting to live with something that’s already dead than have to watch the last vestiges of life seep away from something you once felt for.
It was in a mood in part shaped by these surroundings that I visited this pub, on the way back from a walk with said friend around nearby Bolam Lake.
To add to that, I'd spent the previous week cooped up in the house with covid feeling pretty ill. All that time alone in the house will get you thinking. So will feeling unwell. If you’re not careful, you can begin to question your life choices in too fine a detail.
This walk was the first time I’d both been outside in the fresh air and in the company of another person for a while and I spent most of it chewing over the whats and the whys of life, with occasional stops to catch the breath that had left me behind thanks to infection with a respiratory virus. My poor friend was very patient.
Existential navel gazing is something I am far too familiar with (the pop psychologist in me often thinks that this whole blog is an attempt to resolve an existential crisis within me), however I'm not sure there is a better time for this practice than on a dreary Sunday in early November, recovering from illness whilst walking laps around a man made lake somewhere in the countryside. If you know of one, please let me know.
So as we stepped into The Beresford Arms, described here by the Visit Northumberland as “an idyllic haven, where timeless charm converges with contemporary comfort”, it was exactly that which I was looking for to gently coax me back to reality after time spent in the existential mist. The roaring log fire made for a promising start, as did the available seats right beside it. I ordered drinks from the friendly bar staff and settled in for refreshment.
Appearance: The lime and soda came in a Pepsi glass. Not uncommon but not classic. Contemporary comfort indeed. As my friend pointed out, it had a good colour, especially in the orange glow of the fire. The green of the cordial really came through. On the top of the dancing bubbles bobbed a slice of fresh lime. The perfect garnish. This place is doing it right.
Taste: It didn’t take much mixing, just a gentle swirl of the glass and the flavours fell seamlessly into each other. On the first sip, the cordial was tangy but not overbearing. Certainly not artificial tasting. With another, it had just the right hint of lime flavouring to suggest the essence of “modern elegance” that this pub gives off. Would you get this in a city centre boozer? No, of course not, but we weren’t in a city centre boozer, we were in rural Northumberland. It’s the kind of lime and soda that would be the perfect pairing for the incredible looking Sunday roasts, which the staff were delivering to hungry customers all throughout our visit. It was very refreshing.
Price: A half pint of cider and a lime and soda came to £5.20 so I’d take a guess and say that this place isn’t the cheapest for lime and soda lovers, but it was worth it.
One of the lighter discussions we’d had on the drive up to Bolam Lake was about our favourite pubs in Newcastle and the surrounding area. As we passed this pub and decided we’d stop there on the way back, we both wondered aloud if this would make it to the list.
I’ll let you be the judge but I’d certainly recommend it, particularly if you’re looking for a Sunday session to reinvigorate you when it’s pub weather outside. A preceding existential crisis is not necessary.
