Fladdabister

[shewhomust]

Driving north to Brae the previous day, I had been struck by the absence old farms; but all we had to do was to loop off the broad smooth ribbon of the new road (in Shetland, you can see exactly where the oil money has been spent), into the village. Beyond the new houses in Fladdabister are a group of abandoned crofts, reduced to grassy mounds, heaps of stones, tell-tale patches of feral rhubarb. Here and there lie a piece of rusting farm macinery, or a stack of old doors, because after all, they might come in handy some time. And beyond the grass is the sea, and beyond the sea are more low hills.

And that was Fladdabister.