Sunrise is a rare serene time for Bangkok, seen from an early morning ferry on the Chao Phraya River. Photo / Martin Sykes
A vodka and tonic is just a vodka and tonic, some might say, but this one is served with an extra twist that brings on a special high. It tastes about the same as usual but I'm drinking it leaning against a simple glass balustrade 230m above the fascinating city of Bangkok.
The sun is setting, and a few sounds of the streets (police sirens mostly) are wafting up from 63 floors below, but up here all is peaceful. It's a rooftop oasis of cocktail drinking and extraordinarily fine dining at Sky Bar and Sirocco restaurant on the roof of State Tower in the Bangrak district.
Bangkok is a city of contrasts, from the ultra-modern skyscrapers, shopping centres and skytrain aerial railway to the more traditional temples, Royal palaces, street markets and tuktuks, all bustling with the nine million people who live here.
The city below has already started to turn on the lights for night time while I'm still enjoying the final golden rays of evening light and looking down on boats snaking their way along the river far below. It's hard to get a sense of where the city's centre lies but to me its heart is the Chao Phraya River.
Jumping on and off the many different types of boats to get around is one of the great joys of being here. No matter how hot the day may be (and it was generally around 40C when I was there in the late February "winter") a refreshing breeze is never far away when speeding along the river on a longtailed boat. These sleek craft are powered by recycled car engines attached to a propellor at the end of a very long drive shaft sticking out far behind the boat, which allows them to operate in very shallow waters and travel extremely fast, with quite a level of noise for accompaniment.
But going fast isn't an option when the longtail ventures off the river and wends its way along some of the many canals (or khlong) which weave a veritable spider's web of watery thoroughfares connecting one suburb with another.
For many residents of Bangkok navigating these khlong is just a normal part of their daily life. Their houses are raised on stilts over the water's edge and the easiest way of getting around is by boat.
The khlong give this area a feel of the canals of Venice. As I glide along at a leisurely pace, waterborne vendors paddle out to meet us in their canoes, eager to sell all sorts of stuff that we didn't know we needed ... like a loaf of bread to feed the catfish in front of a nearby temple.
The fish seem to know they're safe around the temples. And they obviously know they're likely to be fed because so many rush in, wriggling and squirming as they compete for the bread, that tourists should expect to be splashed.


