We fitted replacement head and tail lights into Alberto’s scrap reject Nissan and strapped the bonnet down with flimsy vinyl tape. Pulling onto the main drag out of Boro, the car groaned like a sinking ship. It does that when you turn left - Alberto’s words.
While the happy, well adjusted Newcastle city slickers shouted at taxi drivers and punched each other, we were standing quietly in unassuming jackets on the Quayside. This is a shot planned for the intro sequence - establishing, classically North Eastern. This is one of a stitch, the total collage is of six. Three across, two up. Not sure where it will go, exactly, or whether it’ll need filtering or sketching over. We will see.

Having finished these we loaded into the Nissan to move on to the next location. Foglia turned the key in the ignition. Nothing happened. It seemed momentarily strange, walking by, to see a man sitting alone in his minivan in a deserted car park outside The Sage. Actually, this guy saved the day. He offered to jump start the car, but neither party had any leads. He gave us a lift through the dark in the minivan up to the garage. ‘Like A Virgin’ played on the local radio station. We didn’t have much small talk to us.
Turned out the cables had come clean off the battery, some tension in the angle of the wire must have kept the vital component scraping the contact.

Need to go back again tonight. There’s shots from an estate high rise and from the inside of an A road tunnel still to do.