For years, I told people to go to the rooftop bar at the Hotel Mediterraneo, on via Cavour, which boasts stunning views and Italo, the most charming old waiter in town.  But recently I went there, and it was CLOSED.  Now they only serve dinner up there, and it’s LOCKED the rest of the time.  There oughta be a law.

I remained inconsolable until one day I raised my eyes heavenward – most likely shaking my fist at the gods for casting me this cruel fate, or maybe to check out a bus stop sign – and I saw, high above me, like a vision, a bar.  A bar in the sky. Like a dream, it was. So, I took my friend, who was visiting and who is famous for never, ever turning down a cocktail, and up, up, up we went to the bar in the sky.

This bar is like Brett Easton Ellis and Edward Hopper had a baby. A baby made of gin and love. Oh, it is so glorious. Gentlemen, BEHOLD:

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