The Crimea

You thought it was in Ukraine didn't you - not at all! It's here on the Sheep's Head.
A bright and frosty morning we decided to do a loop walk, which takes you past our Crimea, a tiny ruined settlement clinging to the north side of the peninsula. There are about five or six little houses in this cluster or clachán. One has recently been restored, its roof thatched and walls made sturdy. It gives you a good idea of what life must have been like. One roomed with a loft for sleeping. Thick walls, doors opposite each other to let out the smoke,  an open hearth, oil lamps and fresh water from the beautifully clear well. Each house seems to have had another tiny building near it, presumably for animals. The families here would have been self-sufficient but relying on each other. There was commonage for the sheep, bogs for the fuel and communal land for growing major crops. Each house would probably have had its own veg garden too.
The area had been tightly strimmed all around which meant you could easily see all the little paths made between the houses; the beautifully walled fields and the humps and bumps of the lazy beds where they grew spuds. In one of these little fields a  small grave, one of the children who had died from scarlet fever.
The last person moved out in the 1950s. Opinions differ as to what life was like. Some say it must have been a tough life, a continual battle with poverty; others who knew some of the people who lived here say they were content and cheerful - maybe somewhere between the two. And the Crimea - some will say there was  such a ferocious feud between two of the families that it was like the Crimea (the real one) so maybe life wasn't that peaceful after all!