What do you call that peculiar sense of euphoria you feel at an airport? Airport rush? Airport buzz? Airport high? If you know, you know. I always arrive absurdly early for my flights. Airports exist in a state of permanent, contained chaos: there is always somewhere to be, a gate to find and a departure being announced. Someone may be boarding a plane for the first time, while someone else may be travelling under difficult circumstances. Some people are thrilled simply to be

Living in Istanbul is, without a doubt, a love-hate relationship. Some days (or, if I’m honest, most days) you hate it so intensely that every cell in your body seems to scream, “Get me out of here!” These are the mornings when you wake at six and have to be on the road within half an hour, simply to stop a twenty-minute drive from becoming a seventy-minute commute. Some days, I can’t bear the relentless chorus of car horns. And then, a few times a month, you find yourself at