What Anthony Bourdain Was to Me

I remember walking through the streets of Bangkok last Fall among a never ending sea of locals dressed in black. We had just arrived on the first leg of our honeymoon, jetlagged, and confused. 

Shops were closed for days. The streets surrounding important monuments were heavily guarded with limited access. Many bars, despite being open, refused to serve alcohol. It was the culmination of a year of mourning for the death of King Bhumibol Adulyadej, ending with his ceremonial cremation. After all this time, the air was sombre as people lined up to pay their last respects. Many still cried. While I had immense respect for their traditions and felt fortunate to be part of this significant moment in Thailand’s history, it was hard for me to understand their loss. To me, it was a strange thing to mourn the passing of someone you’ve never known in real life.