What is it about 52nd floors?

We spin closer and closer to the end of term - and I am like a child, petulant and misbehaved.

I sneak away after our final kaiwa class of the semester, to sip a cocktail in one of the most expensive hotel in the world; the Shinjuku Hyatt. Mel and I know we'll be forgoing several lunches and dinners for the privilege, but sat amongst the clouds, and pink sunset of Tokyo sprawled beneath us, it was all we could do not to spill our guts at our feet in a quiet sense of utter amazement that this was our postal code.