hen mega clubs make the leap to the world of the big rooftop patio, they often take what they hope will be the path of least ‘design’ resistance. Instead of putting colossal effort into what could be treated as a separate entity in itself, they typically select a DIY scheme that capitalizes on a rooftop that needs not much more than alcohol and furniture. Oddly enough, this usually appeases us, in our patio-centric times. Especially if the rooftop in question is spectacular from the outset.

As is the patio on the roof of the complex known as the Guvernment. To many faithful regulars, the rooftop identified simply as Skybar is a, if not the, main highlight at the Guvernment, as alive and seething as any of its brethren - Koolhaus, Orange Room, Charlie’s, The Drink - within the Guvernment complex.

At sundown and onward, Skybar becomes pure pleasuredom; a bouncer guards Skybar’s own entrance leading up to the roof. You are ushered up a flight of stairs into a fabulous open space depleting all memory of a lifeless Queens Quay down below. You order your beer or cocktail, served in a can or plastic cup respectively. You mix and mingle with your usual detached amusement. Eventually the space, wherein the virtual wallpaper is the Toronto skyscape, starts to feel like - if you can mentally block out the Gardiner Expressway - South Beach.

Skybar’s considerable attributes - not the least of which is the touching romance between nightclub and the Toronto skyline - make the rooftop a serious draw. It has to be; Skybar has precisely four months to prove its appeal. And this it does, serving up serious Miami-ish, alfresco attitude, with benches, fountains, and, depending on the night, ice sculptures. Skybar is content to remain seasonal and dependent on weather; if it rains, there’s no Skybar.