The tiny hamlet of Crookhaven lies about as far
down in south-west Cork as you can go without falling into the sea -
tucked snugly on the sheltered side of a narrow neck of land which
creates a deep inlet - the 'crooked haven' which gave the little
settlement its name.
It's the very epitome of a sleepy fishing village. Brightly-coloured boats bob at anchor; pastel-coloured cottages slumber in the sunshine along the sloping street.
A pub spills tables and chairs out on to the quayside among the drying fishing nets, a small shop sells groceries and postcards as well as shrimping nets, buckets and spades.
It looks as though nothing ever has or ever could happen to disturb its peace.