What makes it quietly arresting is the gap between its modest physical presence and the weight those names carry. There is no church standing here now, only a low, roughly circular mound, scarped at its edges, measuring around fourteen metres north to south and ten metres east to west, sitting atop the hillock with plain grave-markers visible in the south-east quadrant and to the west.

The site appears on the first edition of the Ordnance Survey six-inch map, which dates from the mid-nineteenth century, confirming that it was already a recognised feature of the landscape when systematic cartography reached the islands. Tim Robinson, whose meticulous work on the Aran Islands documented local place-names and traditions, recorded the two Irish names in 1980. The scarped mound itself may indicate that an earlier structure once occupied the summit, possibly the church implied by the name An Seanteampall, though no visible remains of any building survive above ground. A modern field wall cuts across the mound at the south-west and north-west, the kind of practical agricultural intervention that has, over generations, quietly reorganised the edges of countless early ecclesiastical sites across Ireland.