Tag: soup

Every year, like clockwork, 8 June sneaks up and smacks me in the face like a dodgy oyster from a Bangkok street vendor. It’s the day I remember that Anthony Bourdain–Tony – left this world, and somehow, even now, I still can’t quite believe it.

Tony wasn’t just a TV host or a celebrity chef. He was the guy – the salty, no-nonsense, noodle-slurping travel philosopher who made you want to eat soup on a plastic stool in the middle of a chaotic market in some sweaty corner of Southeast Asia. And dammit, I did.

He taught me everything:

– How to travel with curiosity, not arrogance

– How to eat with reverence, not snobbery

– How to tell a story with bite, not fluff

– And how to weaponise dry humour with surgical precision

I still remember the day I read the news about his death. My first reaction? “Nah, fake news. No way.” Tony was indestructible. He waded through jungles, dodged angry chefs, and drank suspicious local booze with grace and guts. But then came that sinking feeling in the stomach. You know the one – the oh-no-this-is-actually-real kind.

And that was it. The man who, through a flickering TV screen, gave me the courage to pack up my life at 20 move to a random dot on the map… was gone. My idol, my invisible mentor, the curmudgeonly uncle I never had –but always wanted – was no more.

I still watch reruns of A Cook’s Tour and No Reservations like they’re gospel. It’s like clinging to the voice of an old friend – someone you never actually knew but knew you, somehow. It’s not quite enough, but it’s all we’ve got.

And yet, even now, he’s part of my DNA. He lives in the way I travel, the way I eat, the way I seek out chaos and charm in the same breath. He changed the way I think. He made me move. He made me feel. He made me want more from life than boring cruises and beige conversations.

So today, I grab a bowl of something unpronounceable, find the most uncomfortable seat I can, and remember the guy who made it all make sense.

Here’s to the man who said:

“If I’m an advocate for anything, it’s to move. As far as you can, as much as you can. Across the ocean, or simply across the river. The extent to which you can walk in someone else’s shoes or at least eat their food, it’s a plus for everybody. Open your mind, get up off the couch, move.”

You changed everything. Thank you, Tony.