What survives is a confusion of collapsed stone, so tumbled and overgrown that the eye struggles to make sense of it. Yet underneath the disorder lies the ghost of a cashel, a type of early medieval stone-walled enclosure, with the outlines of three small hut-sites still faintly traceable along its inner edge. The largest of these is circular, roughly five metres across internally. A low mound of stones sits near the centre, its purpose uncertain; it may simply be material thrown up from a depression in the eastern part of the site. The western perimeter wall, now reduced to a bank of small stones, retains some intermittent stretches of original facing, which is what allows the enclosure to be identified at all.

The site carries an intriguing layer of ambiguity in its surroundings. The field in which it sits is called Gorta-killeen, or Gort an chillín in Irish, a name that typically points to a small church or an unconsecrated burial ground, often associated with unbaptised children. But there is no visible trace of any such structure here, and no local tradition that explains the name. Locally, the remains are referred to as a lios, the Irish word more commonly associated with earthen ringforts, and the site is said to have once contained a souterrain, an underground stone-lined passage typically used in early medieval settlements for storage or refuge, though no entrance is now apparent. The archaeological survey of the Dingle Peninsula, published by J. Cuppage in 1986, recorded the site in this condition, already deeply ruined and difficult to interpret.