I was recently back in the UK for a family celebration and decided to treat myself to an overnight stay at the Anglers Armsin Weldon Bridge, near Morpeth, Northumberland. There are overnight stays... and then there are proper overnight stays. Nestled beside the beautiful River Coquet, it was the sort of place where the scenery encourages long walks, while the cosy pub quietly suggests that another pint would be a perfectly reasonable alternative. Happily, the beer was excellent, making the decision to stay put even easier. Add to that some of the friendliest people and the finest accents anywhere, and it was impossible not to feel completely at home.
Morning arrived with the kind of breakfast that deserves its own fan club: kippers and eggs. Now, kippers can divide opinion, but for those of us who appreciate a breakfast with a bit of character (and a lingering aroma that politely reminds everyone you’ve eaten well), they are hard to beat. Perfectly cooked, wonderfully smoky, and accompanied by eggs that knew exactly what they were doing, it was a breakfast that made cereal seem like an administrative error.
Suitably fueled, I headed to Alnwick for a pilgrimage to the Hardy Store and Museum.For anyone with even the slightest interest in fishing, it’s a bit like stepping into a cathedral—except with considerably more split cane, reels, and tweed. The craftsmanship, history, and stories behind the famous Hardy tackle are fascinating, although I hadn’t quite appreciated that the museum experience also included several flights of stairs. By the time I’d reached the top, I felt I’d earned another pint, but the displays made every step worthwhile. Whether you’re a lifelong fisherman or simply enjoy beautifully made things, it’s well worth the climb.
By the end of the trip, I’d managed to combine great hospitality, spectacular riverside scenery, memorable beer, an unforgettable breakfast, and a healthy dose of angling history—all within a remarkably short distance. The only real disappointment? Discovering that despite visiting the Hardy Museum, admiring the River Coquet, climbing enough stairs to qualify for a hill-walking badge, and eating enough kippers to scent a small village, I still wasn’t magically transformed into a better fisherman. Clearly, another visit will be required... if only to see whether the beer, kippers and a little Hardy magic eventually improve my casting.
