I was thirteen the first time I went to New York. It was a couple of days before Christmas. I remember buildings so tall that you couldn’t see the top, even when you craned your neck back as far as it would go. I remember the lights glittering above the wide avenues. And I remember the cold. The biting, blistering cold. It was snowing and the wind was howling along the streets, turning my nose to a frosty lump on my face.
Returning ten years later for a muggy week in June, I was faced with a somewhat different experience. Instead of freezing cold, there was a sticky, overwhelming heat that turned me into a sweaty, grumpy mess (I have no idea how New Yorkers handle August).
I quickly learned that there’s only one way to cope with summer in the city and it involves a view and a cocktail.* Oh, and a lot of air-con.
Here are a couple of my favourite rooftop spots.