Brae Hall, ShetlandIt is night. We're sitting in cars facing darkly glittering water and a distant horizon. To our left, in the middle distance, flares flame: refinery burn-off, I guess. A man, leaning through the driver's window, asks us to tune our radio to a particular frequency. Between us and the shoreline sits a four-door estate. Its windows are misted. People hunch inside. A beam of light hits the saloon,…
SOURCE: The Guardian at 08:05PM on March 23, 2013