On the back of the huge slice of flaming melon

Yes, I thought that would make you look. Here's your starter for 10 (I'm already missing University Challenge and I've been back only a week). Which 20th century artist produced an illustrated poem with this blog's title? Come on, come on! No conferring over there. Look, I've already given you a ruddy great clue in the ridiculous question. Time's up. Yeees, it was Pablo Picasso. I went to a very good exhibition of his work at the Emirates Palace Hotel (think massive, think opulence, think . . . how many people could have been fed on the money squandered on this fantastic hotel) in Abu Dhabi yesterday. I know it's shameful, but I have to admit to an awful lot of pleasure when driving up to the hotel through the impressive grounds and waterfalls, having been greeted at the gate by a liveried and extremely polite security man. Then we park for free in the underground car park, take the lift up to the grand doors of the main entrance, which are opened by more liveried staff to welcome us into luxury. And I am allowed in. I always expect them to look me up and down, as would happen in a posh London hotel, and, after severe questioning, show me the exit. Instead, we have smiles and greetings, as though I looked as though I was born to this kind of lifestyle. Then, having been there a few times now, I saunter casually past the well appointed reception area, through the massive circular area with the ornate ceiling and on into the cafe and the exhibition. The cafe isn't cheap, but they have posh chairs, teapots that don't leak and chocolate cake with shavings of real gold. Strangely, the gold doesn't play hell with my fillings.

The exhibition is free to enter as well, which is such a treat. I can't say that I'm a fan of Mr Picasso, as I'm more of a Van Gogh woman. As it turned out, that's OK because Picasso was something of the Robbie Williams of the 20th century art world. He liked to borrow ideas from everyone, including a self-portrait that could have been painted by Vincent, if he hadn't been dead by then. The exhibition showed Picasso's works throughout his life and I came to see that he really was very good. There was just one that I thought I could have painted myself, and probably done a better job. Otherwise, some of his more traditional 'classical' paintings were impressive and emotional. He also liked to throw together bits of garbage to make sculptures, such as a bull's head from the old handlebars and saddle of a bicycle. This kind of thing really inspires me, so I may have a go when the weather cools down. At the moment I am covered in sweat just walking from the front door of Ol Squit Towers to my ropey old car.

So, my two dear readers, I can fully recommend a trip to the exhibition, but you'd better hurry as it ends on 4 September. If you can't manage the journey in the coming week, try out this brilliant website: http://www.mrpicassohead.com. You have the chance to make up your own Picasso style picture and then email it to yourself and your friends. Your work of art will be added to the website's gallery. You may be inspired to write poetry in French, daub a few coloured shapes around the words and give it a fantastic title! Melon balls anyone?