It was 2013, and there I sat in Istanbul International waiting for my third flight of the day. Beaten up from the multiple timezones and airline meals that encompassed my every day at that stage of my life. I lifted my head from a quick nap to see Anthony Bourdain was catching the same flight to Israel. He looked how I felt, and he was disappearing; it seemed into the solace of the empty terminal and cocoon of self. I debated at length in my head if I should introduce myself or let him know h...
