Public House

As we drove into town from the airport, Mr Smith and I were mesmerised by the contrasts of Bangkok. Between towering condos, we caught glimpses of daily life in the city: open-air markets, food stalls sizzling with street food, clusters of motorbikes weaving through the traffic… Temples with golden rooftops occasionally peek through the concrete jungle, casting an ancient light on the urban chaos. Cars, motorbikes, tuk tuks and trucks all head in one direction towards the centre. 

Public House is at the heart of Sukhumvit, one of the more artistic quarters of Bangkok, where you can start your day sipping artisanal coffee in a hipster café tucked down a winding soi (or side street), then find yourself bartering at the street-food carts by lunchtime. Everywhere you look, something’s happening. The shiny malls flash luxury brands at you, but just a few steps away, there’s an old-school massage parlour or a vendor grilling skewers of meat.

At the hotel, we’re served chilled coconut juice in the sleek, dimly lit lounge, which has a plush bar and chic mirrored walls. Aesthetically, it feels like an industrial warehouse transplanted from New York City to Bangkok. We’re escorted to our Deluxe King Room — a cool hideaway, with black-out curtains and the most comfortable bed. Tempting us more convincingly than a nap though was the rooftop pool, which was surprisingly empty. We sank into our sunloungers, now with a stronger drink in tow, a perfectly made Negroni at happy hour.

We decided to take it easy the following day, venturing only as far as the nearest mall – the Emquartier, which is a short walk away. Consumers that we are, we soon find ourselves parched and exhausted after buying an excessive amount of Asian skincare products and a little handheld electric fan to keep us cool in the humidity. With shopping bags in tow, we rush back to the haven that is Public House, ravenous. At Fest, it doesn’t take long for our wood-fired pizzas to arrive, accompanied by some sumptuous aguachile and salmon sashimi. We devour both in a state of total bliss, savouring each smoky margarita as if it were our last.

The next morning, I manage to sneak out to Forum, the co-working space at Public House, to do a bit of writing, while Mr Smith sleeps in. With a coffee in hand, I’m suddenly the ultimate digital nomad, checking off my to-do list before 10am. I even join a work call in the Podcast Lounge, feeling like I’ve unlocked some ultimate work-life hack.

With another lazy morning ahead, we lounge around and enjoy breakfast: buns filled with bacon, eggs, ’nduja butter and aioli, with fresh juice and iced coffees. We’d like to say we are building up energy for a big day of sightseeing ahead, but after stepping out of the hotel, we are soon sidetracked by the nearby Oasis Spa and while two hours away in the best way possible. Afterwards, we head to Rung Rueang Pork Noodle — a Michelin-guide-rated food stall — for a delightfully sour and spicy bowl of tom-yum soup.

On our return, we have one last Negroni before bidding farewell to our slice of Bangkok heaven at Public House. We linger just a bit too long in the hotel lobby, where staff and guests alike are politely pretending not to notice how reluctant we are to leave. From our taxi, I steal one last glance at the city’s skyline. High-rises, temples and laundry-strewn balconies wave us off with a knowing wink. Bangkok, with all its heat, hustle and heart, has hooked us. Once will never be enough.