Dear Friends and Family,

Vertigo is not a state in which I’ve had too much to drink and cannot stand without weaving. Hmmm… let me rephrase: on this occasion, “Vertigo” is the name of an amazing open-air bar + restaurant that resides on the roof of a swish 59-floor hotel. Although it truly isn’t fair to call this place a roof – it is the top floor of a building minus the roof. And really, who needs a roof? The day previous I had mentioned to my British ex-pat friend that I fantasized watching the sun fall over Bangkok while sitting at a posh hotel, elegantly dressed, Cosmo casually clasped in hand. She laughed and suggested that I meet her at the Banyan Tree Hotel’s bar. When I arrived, there was no sun. Indeed it had been sprinkling rain so Vertigo was closed and I ended up alone, drinking a mere 52-floors up, nonetheless enchanted with the view at a place called Latitude. Kind-a dumb name for this bar, actually, as it is the heart of three floors framed by the glass façade of the rest of the hotel, with a large (fake) Banyan Tree appearing to grow through the bar’s center. This bar makes the Banyan Tree Hotel recognizable throughout the city and was great fun to point at while later riding the skytrain.

After paying the Latitude bill for an alcoholic Thai concoction that sounded a great deal better than it tasted and having taken a dozen pictures, I returned to meet my friend at the now open Vertigo. Up the silent elevator, through red and white swanky halls, up a spiral staircase, onto the last hotel floor and I found the city of Bangkok literally at my feet. All that separated me from jumping into the heart of the city was an iron railing and its glass enclosure. My stomach dropped to my knees, my eyes flared, and I trembled a bit as I made my way up the entry stairs, past a restaurant with lit candles and elegantly draped tablecloths. I continued down and immediately back up another stair to a square bar at the furthest corner (I hated to imagine the shape of the roof was truly this shape or whether they had built this place fashionably uneven). My knees gave way when I reached the table with my friend and I sat down in my own chair with a big plop. I perked up to order a final drink, to be good company for my friend and to take a few pictures… but my main memory of the evening then and now is of a dark as black, navy sky dotted with colored lights, and a friendly breeze. My ex-pat friend truly loves Bangkok and it was 59 floors up, dressed to traveler’s version of “the nines” when I briefly lived my fantasy of chic urban girl at the best place in the city – and I could see the appeal. Unfortunately a few minutes later, a few large drops of rain had hit my face and me & my shaky knees learned the true meaning of Vertigo on the exit stairs of the restaurant… and soon descended to whence we came. --L