WHEN anyone this side of the river mentions Eastham and is not a Wirralyback (ie a natural born denizen of the peninsula as the Woolyback is to Wigan and the Maghullyback to Maghull) then bleak visions of oil terminals and grim industrial canals spring to mind.

But since Lady Penelope of Pensby arrived on the Pub Column scene a whole new side to this riverside village has been revealed. It is one of the Wirral's most ancient settlements, the "ham" part of its name derived from the Anglo Saxon for home. In the Middle Ages, a ferry service operated across the Mersey to Eastham from the 'Pool, the earliest being run by monks from the Abbey of St Werburgh.

The original village is also clustered around St Mary's church, a place of worship since before the Domesday Book and whose churchyard contains an ancient yew which was reported to have been in existence in 1152.

Wow!

The Pub Column and Lady Penelope were bowled over by this fact, especially since trees form an intrinsic part of our past lives as, according to separate soothsayers we have consulted, I was a Druid and she was a "wise woman of the village" or witch.

Anyway, that's enough history for now because we touched on Eastham's luscious heritage after visiting two of its great pubs The Tap and the Eastham Ferry last year, both of which have stunning views across the Mersey.

A third, and the object of our destination this week was the Hooton Arms, a tad nearer to the village centre. An old schoolmaster's house, it's named after the Hooton family, whose name dates back in these parts to Saxon times too.

We burst through its doors bearing with us the beautiful smell of bonfire smoke carried in our wake on the crisp autumn air. A drink was needed and fast. It came in the form of the wonderful Brimstage Scarecrow, the seasonal bitter brewed just down the road by Neil Young, whose various creations are getting increasingly patriotic attention from Wirral pubs. This particular pint was served up by the vivacious Andrea on a late weekday afternoon when this cozy two-room pub, with its open range fireplace festooned with brasses, was beginning to fill with regulars on their way home from work.

There's definitely a feel of the rustic here and community as well. Not as in the infamous Slaughtered Lamb scene in American Werewolf in London where all the locals turn as one to silently stare at the strangers coming in through the door from the cold. But as in the hale fellow, well met, kinda way that makes you want to park your bum and while a way a pint or two as the falling leaves waft past the window.

This is just the type of feeling that husband and wife hosts Keith and Sue Cawley wanted to cultivate when they took over the place 18 months ago. There's a Quiz Night on Wednesday, a five-a-side and darts team, a Golf Society and they hope to organise days at the races and charity cricket games come summer.

A regular ham from ham as an Anglo Saxon might say.

Try and make it yours.

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