The Ravenscroft, Heswall

Feb 24 2007 by Mike Chapple, Liverpool Daily Post

This is not surprising considering that it's the first boozer to be established at the very heart of this bustling Wirral village, so its catchment possibilities are huge.

Nevertheless, this tribute to Heswall's most famous son almost didn't happen. Iain says there were 51 planning objections to the conversion.

This was because the application was made by the Barracuda group and the objectors associated it with the bangin' choons bar of the same name in Hanover Street.

Let's face it, the prospect of being invaded by a Lacoste-clad army of Mr and Mrs Track E Bottoms, swigging two for one Coma Coladas and bouncing along to 300-decibel Scouse House would be enough to turn anyone white with fright.

But they were mistaken and, with fears allayed, many of the same objectors are now becoming regulars.

When Yours Truly visited last Saturday afternoon - after first bumping into Pub Column sidekick, Post Arts editor Mr Phil "Wotcha cocker" Key - the place was buzzing in the aforementioned all-things-for-all-people kinda way.

The spacious non-smoking room with fireplace was mostly occupied by a genteel set of ladies who lunch types, while the main bar area had younger drinkers keeping an occasional eye on the Bolton-Arsenal game.

If you love your footie, this is definitely the place to be - there are plasma screens all over the place and, wherever you sit, you're guaranteed a slice of the action.

But, if you're a pub traditionalist who resents this TV invasion, then you'll think otherwise even though there are three real ale casks to choose from.

These included a well-kept pint of draught Bass which I supped while resisting the temptation to slap an especially oiky youth sitting on an adjoining table.

The deduction from this would be that we weren't entirely comfortable, which is correct.

Essentially, we couldn't figure out whether the place wanted to be a pub or a restaurant and felt awkward with its fresh-faced ambience.

What a shame that Peelie himself was not around to deliver a verdict.

We toasted his memory regardless, then quietly left.