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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.