The Vale

The Vale is one of those pubs that I have often walked by and gone, ‘I wonder what it looks like in there’. I enjoy an old man pub and have frequented some very bizarre establishments on my football travels around the country but for some reason I had never set foot in The Vale… until now.
First thing that I learned about The Vale; there’s a music venue upstairs (the reason for my debut appearance), a friend of a friends band were playing and although the size of the venue would be described in West End estate agency brochures as ‘bijou’ I was impressed with the quality of sound produced and liked the quirky lay out. One of our group accidentally ended up as some kind of bouncer for the ladies toilets, which caused much hilarity. I never visited the bar but I got 5 bottles of Tuborg for my £10 kitty deposit so I assume that it was fairly cheap.
As I left I made my second discovery, in the ground floor bar they have a live departures board for Queen Street Station useful but totally unexpected.
All in all a cheap old man bar in the middle of town with a funky wee music venue and something for the trainspotters to get excited about downstairs!

The Vale may look a little uninviting from the outside, but on the inside awaits a real ale treasure and a cosy spot to enjoy a drink.
The owner has apparently been on a busman’s holiday, as they have a poster in the window saying he has brought back the ale he enjoyed, and now stocks it at the bar. They also have all the types of Guinness (even the newer Brewer’s project ones), and you can see from the collection of old pump clips that they have many local and national tastes to try.
There are lots of old Glasgow pictures and adverts on the wall, it is dog friendly and has an interactive train departures screen (the only one I have ever seen in a pub which is not physically in a train station). Go see!

All of the previous poor scores are from 5 years ago, sort it out Unilocal!
The Vale is an unassuming pub which reminds me a lot of The Laurieston. If you like one, I’m sure you’ll like the other.
What’s going for it:
Friendly staff, two real ales, lots of screens for sport, old school interior, stags heads, maps and brewery mirrors.
What’s not going for it:
A rock club upstairs can creat a lot of noise and the toilets are old school like the interior.
Go for a pint and see what you think. This place definitely deserves a higher score.

Great bar for a couple of beers after work.
Great service, great pint and not too expensive.
Authentic feel that is hard to find in a city centre bar.
Please don’t change anything!

Since the last reviews, The Vale has had a bit of a revamp. Although it does attract an older and at times gruff clientele, I think you’ll find most places in major cities do!
But back to the revamp. Spread across two floors, the lower half of The Vale still stays true to its locals, and has quite a busy, lively atmosphere downstairs with a range of booze on tap. Upstairs, it’s become quite upmarket and edgy. The walls have had a lick of paint in bold colours like reds and greys (if my memory serves me correctly) and it attracts a trendy crowd.
This makes it a great place to host a gig. I have been to a few small gigs in here and all have been great. The last one I went to was a local artist called Chris Gorman — he was having a record launch night. It was heaving, the booze was flowing, the bartender was friendly and Chris’s voice filled the room. Absolutely glorious. He managed to get at least 100 people and a piano into the upstairs bar, so as a gig venue the space fairs well.
I think if you pop in to see for yourself, you will be pleasantly surprised.

The Vale looks like a dingy little dive of a pub, situated just opposite the side entrance to Queen Street Station. However, it seems to attempt to establish itself as a little corner of cool, with its quirky cool members of staff and playing host to gigs from local bands.
What doesn’t quite add up is the old codger clientele, supping their pints, being served by tattooed and pierced pint pullers, and the senior citizen smokers standing spluttering in the doorway, amongst greasy haired youngsters lugging guitars and gig gear in and out of the place.
It’s unclear who the desired target market is for this place, with the greasy giggers and beer bellied boozers sitting side by side. However, they seem quite content to live and let live and enjoy the cheap pints and patter.

The vale is a typical Glasgow pub without the charm. I went to see a friend’s band play upstairs and I was horrified to see that the girls toilet was beside the stage. This translates into the awkward social situation of having to walk past the bands that are playing every time you need to visit the little girl’s room. Not a great start to any night. But wait, it gets worse. The stage has a wall in front of it so you only get to see half a band. The sound is poor and the dance floor is nonexistent. This results in a rubbish vibe with lots of roof staring and watch gazing.
Venture downstairs and you are welcomed with the site of a dank lounge that is not very friendly.
On the bright side it is close to Buchanan Subway and Queen Street Station so if you need to make a swift exit you can get home nice and quick.

Maybe I have this place all wrong. I hope I do.
Rewind seven years to a 15-​year-​old Liz (God, am I that old now!). My band and I had just secured our first gig in Glasgow! Glasgow! Now we were really hitting the big time. Only a matter of time before the SECC is phoning up asking us to play. Oh the fallacy of youth…
Anyway, I had major delusions of grandeur about this place. I expected a baying mob, crowd surfing and to have my orange juice to be bought for me all night after that.
The stage was small, fair enough, but here’s the thing that really got me: there was a wall in front of it. A stage. With a wall in front of it.
WTF?!
Now, the wall was only about waist height, but me being seated, as the drummer, I could barely see over it. And the baying mob? More like some of our unenthusiastic but loyal friends and a few guys that came up with their pints halfway through. Probably either to see the «wee lassie oan the drums» or to laugh at the still-​prepubescent singing of our two vocalists.
You live and learn.
(as an «aside», this place is cheap and slightly old and boggin — I would probably still refer to it as an old man’s pub despite the continuing band nights)