I’D be lying if I didn’t reveal that our hearts are sinking as we wait in the plastic holding tent with its tacky white couches, disinterested staff and grubby carpets, Wake Me Up by Avicii blaring deafeningly into soul-dead corporate emptiness.

The only person who approaches us wants an email address, apparently so we can be bombarded with advertising crap from Citroen. Who seem to have left some cars here. We politely decline.

We get to our feet when a weary-sounding South African with a skip cap and an outdoor man jacket gives a safety talk we can’t even hear. Compulsory to book in 45 minutes early just for that? Crikey.

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As we troop out into Glasgow's George Square I turn to Cal: for the £150 each, yes each, this has cost me we could have had three two-Michelin-starred courses at Andrew Fairlie’s at Gleneagles. And still have change for a taxi home. To Glasgow.

We have yet to be strapped into the contraption and hauled by that huge and not very well disguised crane above George Square. Isn’t this the sort of thing they do to deposed dictators in public squares in far off countries? Hearts are by now fully sunk anyway.

By the time we’re 100ft above the ground, legs dangling, straps holding us into alarmingly wobbly car seats, around a large square table, and then the coriander blows overboard and a preserved lime slice from Cal’s plate bolts suicidally after it into the abyss, well, frankly?

Er, umm, actually, and completely weirdly I’m kind of enjoying it. I’ll tell you why in a minute. But it isn’t the single Loch Fyne Oyster with champagne snow and strangely bitter crystallised samphire, though that was OK.

It isn’t the view either, though the sun does crack a smile right upon us as we reach the George Square roofline. And look at those little people over there with their secret terrace high above Greggs.

It’s not, either, the braised octopus with squid ink aioli and little red chillis, though that’s actually decent; good octopus, considering, well everything is pretty much prepared beforehand.

It’s simply this: as we gently float and bob, occasionally catching a breeze and spinning slowly leeward, it’s like being on a boat. In the sky. Not just any boat either. The pirate ship in Peter Pan springs to mind. Down there on Red Square, or Yellow Square given the recent change of personnel in the City Chambers, a beautiful day is over.

Up here the sun still shines with only the endless noise of police cars traversing the square to remind us that in siren-city crime never sleeps. The young chefs on their narrow gangplank in the middle of this single 20-plus seater table are right now frying off ribbons of carrot and courgette with bacon salt. The fun beardy guy over there who, like me, clung to the table and squeaked, "I don’t like this” as we were hoisted aloft now has his seat on full tilt back and is taking selfies.

The man from Muirend is asking if that’s Edinburgh on the horizon. While Scott with the sunglasses, who is the executive chef apparently, and is probably, technically, the captain of this ship, or galley anyway, chats away and hands out dishes.

Line-caught butter-poached hake with clam tagliatelle, carrots and courgette. Nice flavours, even if the fish is a bit overcooked. Back down to ground to collect Peruvian chocolate marquise, a Gordon Ramsey recipe that’s oozing richness. Back up to the rooftops to eat it.

So, here’s when it went right. When we realised us diners are not the only people up here for the first time. The Finnieston chefs are, too. And they’re enjoying the buzz.

And when we realised that the restaurant isn’t making money out of this, they’re actually doing it for publicity. And aren’t responsible for the terrible welcome and shabby entrance.

The Finnieston at Glasgow in the Sky

George Square, Glasgow

Menu: It’s a big table in the sky and anything edible would be a bonus. Three courses of oyster, octopus, line-caught hake and a dessert is reasonably impressive, if a bit on the light side. 4/5

Atmosphere: Strange as it sounds everyone is so closely packed together that there’s a good chef’s table buzz to the whole thing and if you have the nerve you can even look down. 4/5

Service: Chefs on a gangplank in the middle. Diners strapped into chairs at the side. It's intimate and buzzy and that’s what makes it a success. 5/5

Price: It seriously is £150 for dinner per person plus booking fee. The ground based operation is awful but in the air it’s an experience. 3/5

Food: It’s not really about the food given the cooking limitations but the chefs at The Finnieston turned out a good if light meal. 7/10

Total: 23/30