Friday night on Owey Island and it's like we've been time-warped into the Ireland of years gone by. Smoke from burning turf fills the air as the small cluster of locals potter in and out of their well-maintained houses, sharing freshly caught fish and odd jobs. Friendly dogs roam free and chickens strut about. And as the roar of the sea and rustling of the reeds harmonise with warm, convivial chatter, it's hard to believe this lively haven lay dormant for decades.