Thailand -

here was a time when mentioning 'Bangkok' in the same sentence as 'nocturnal activities' conjured up X-rated scenes where the lighting was dim and the action was not something to be watched with your mother. Thankfully, times have changed. Thailand's capital is now on the up, cultivating the region's hottest film industry, and becoming the sassy stop-off point for hot creative types heading into South East Asia.

And, all those gorgeous minds need somewhere equally beautiful to drink because, however silky smooth a go-girl dancer's thighs might be, it's difficult to have a meaningful conversation about global trends in graphic design when ping-pong balls are popping from her epicentre.

Bring on the city's hip new bars – a selection of demure after-dark destinations where the dirtiest things on sale are the martinis. Bed Supperclub started the trend a few years ago – a complete minx of a club cleverly combining an ethereal purity with a lust for unfettered hedonism. Next up were the hotel bars, many dismissing the prospect of standing in the gutter looking at the stars, instead climbing as near to the heavens as possible – and filling themselves with stars.

Evenings are best begun here. At the moment everyone's going to Vertigo (and its accompanying Moon Bar), Banyan Tree Hotel's sky-high offering, unlike any other drinks-and-eats venue in the world. The stylish open-air lounge bar lords it over the city on the 63rd floor, serving up glam cocktails and city views that slap the air right out of your lungs. Sustenance comes in the form of mucho-moda BBQ bites: grilled scallops in their shells with toasted hazelnut and coriander or grilled oysters with parmesan cheese, anyone?

Alternatively, snub the heady heights and install yourself at Aqua, the Four Season's ground-based version of Vertigo. Another believer in the greatness of the outdoors, Aqua keeps things alfresco, but here the nibbles are of a Mediterranean persuasion and the backdrop is a low-lit, tropical garden courtyard brimming with pools and scattered with white chairs. Sit. Not for too long. One night in Bangkok isn't as short as the song – oh, you do know it you liar – but the bars do all close at two. So powder that nose and clip-clop those heels onto the next urban isle.

Diplomat stirs from its beauty sleep a little later in the evening. And never really gets going on school nights. Weekends are the time to play. Currently attracting a metrosexual crowd, it was destined to do well ever since word got round The Conrad Hotel was going to have a sipping section. With no need to shout, its demure dark walls quickly became the place to hang and be hung, helped on by its location in the embassy district. Snag yourself an international plaything, act slinky to the live jazz beats, and head on.

Choices, choices. Just before Cinders looses her slipper it's really a question of whether you want to keep things clean or let the evening get a little sticky. Sophisticates with their fingers in the right pies head to the Met bar, the London branch's little debutante sister. It's members and hotel guests only here although you might sneak in on a quiet night – but isn't that somehow missing the point? Packed with beautiful people on the right day of the week, keep moist with the club's signature martinis.

Others play the pun card and slip into Bed together in front of a room full of people. The queen of Bangkok's clubs and still unmissable, Bed is a huge white spaceship – see it and believe it. More than just a club, it's also a dining option and a showcase for the latest in Asian art. Enter the inner carriage and turn left to lounge and right to go berserk. Tip: girls in frocks taking the horizontal option would do best to keep their knickers on – at least 'til later.

Devotees of urban sleaze can now head in the Pat pong direction. But note we said Pat pong not ping-pong. There's no need to sink quite that low. Yet. Boys who like boys can wander round the corner to Silom Soi 4, where the whole street is a show. Pull up a pew and worship at the altar. Servers dressed like angels work it hard. Divine.

For boys who like girls, girls who like boys and all those who don't know/ care/ just-quite-dare, right about now, just down the lane, Tapas will be starting to get boisterous. Prols who can't squeeze themselves into the heaving mass downstairs spill out onto the street. Pay for room to breathe upstairs or let out your inner slut and head onto the long-lasting and increasingly sweaty Q Bar or Ministry of Sound on Sukhumvit. Witty wordplay not required.

Time for beddie-bye-byes. Exit in style. A chauffeur driving a sleek, black retro merc will take you back to your temporary pad and see you leaving the night looking dashing against a background of dandy red leather. Keep your eyes peeled on the way home, there's always the chance of spotting a handsome young European having his toned torso scratched by a cat-clawed lady of the night for slipping off without paying. And he thought she was such a nice girl. Bless.

Bangkok nightlife – alluringly decadent but still sliced through with an addictive dose of Far Eastern sleaze. Enjoy. Everyone else is.