There’s nothing worse than when you’re sitting at home watching telly and you spot somewhere you recognise, but can’t remember quite the name of it. Well, we thought we’d save you the niggles/ help settle the bets by filling in the blanks
We shot the busy club scene at the Barrowlands and used a few post-production film tricks to make 70 extras look like a whole lot more.
One of the lead girls is MTV News presenter Shantha Roberts, who was recently voted in the top ten of the Daily Record’s 100 Hottest Scots. Alas, the only thing we don’t know about her is her phone number.
The snoggers snogged outside Buchanan Street Underground for 2 ½ hours. In the interests of both parties, we made sure neither nipped across the road for a cheese n’ onion pastie.
The Estadio La Rosaleda in Malaga was where Russia beat us in ’82. No wonder the Saltire’s still soggy. That’s a hell of a lot of tears to dry out.
Our beach hero, 16 year-old Jaimie from Helensburgh, really got into the local speciality; apple ice-cream with cucumber topped with warm white garlic sauce. No wonder he looked so peely wallie the next day.
We shot outside The Salon off Byres Road using a huge fan to give the rain and sleet that horizontal effect (even though that usually happens naturally in Glasgow). It was so noisy that Environmental Health told us off when we tested it at 1am. Took us back to our dim and distant youth.
For the kilt scene, we built our very own airport in Glasgow’s Armadillo. Not a one bag went missing. Read it and weep, Terminal 5.
Our festival Virgin may still be a festival virgin, because we shot this scene at Craigiehall Farm in Queensferry. The nearest he got to hearing any loud bass was the planes coming into land at Edinburgh Airport.
The Looney Dookers, threw caution (amongst other things) to the wind in the chilly waters of the Firth of Forth.
Our young lass did her bit for charity at the Townscryer Newsagents, South Queensferry.
Yer tea’s oot! Our Mince n’ Tatties scene was shot at three locations in Glasgow: The Val D’Oro in High Street, Stavaigan in the west end, and in the kitchen of a lovely wee woman from Maryhill.
Who’d have thought a plate of Mince and tatties could provoke so much controversy? A war just about broke on set over whether the tatties should be sliced up boiled ones as favoured by our east coast contingency, or mashed, as the west insisted. (The English folk were still trying to get their heads round how it was different from stovies.) In the end the west won and we went with mash. As for the debate about the peas...how long have you got?
Our exploding can at the end was a nightmare to shoot, ranging from a wee dribble to nearly taking our hero Kevin’s hand off. He was a total trooper and still let us carry on, though he did swap the can to his non drinking hand just to be on the safe side.
