The Innovation Architect

After having spent a week in Sydney, giving high profile lectures, being waited on hand and foot and being dubbed "The Innovation Architect", my father made his way back home to Barcelona via Singapore. Where yours truly is still staying with her nose to the grindstone. Only coming up for air/wine/cigarettes when her team requires it.

Anyway, The Innovation Architect arrived at the airport and only had an hour to kill before getting on his next plane. As he's been here before and-has-dined-at-some-terrific-places-just-near-the-airport, we decided to go in the direction of Harry's BBQ (or something) and have a splendid steak by the beach.

The long and short of the evening is as follows: dad and g get in cab. Cabby doesn't speak English. Dad only vaguely knows where this Michelin star gem is and decides to trust cabby's interpretation of "very nice restaurant on the beach". Cabby drops us off at the "Food and Recreation Centre" in the middle of a dark forest by the side of a sand mite infested beach.

From outside the gates to the Food and Recreation Centre, one could imagine that inside lies a hidden away palace with a chef in white carefully carving a leg of lamb nodding at us as we pad our way across the marble floors. Turns out it's a flea market of sorts, surrounded by fleas with service provided by cockroaches - those that survive the food.

This is a first in a very very long time for the Innovation Architect and when I saw him balance his can of Ginger Beer on the plastic cup of ice, rather than pour it into it, I knew we wouldn't be eating.

One can of Ginger Beer later, one bite of a lamb kebab (I can afford to get food poisoning, as I still have a week here) and a really good heart to heart and he was off. Love my dad. His number one fan.