İstiklal Avenue runs 1.4 kilometres downhill from Taksim Square to the Tünel funicular, and on a weekend evening a slow river of people fills its whole length. A single red tram, restored from the original line, clangs down the middle of the crowd. Belle Époque façades stand shoulder to shoulder above the shopfronts, neo-classical and Art Nouveau, left from the years when this was Pera and nineteenth-century Istanbul came here to look European. Behind those fronts hide the passages: covered arcades that slip off the street into courtyards and glass-roofed halls.
The red tram is a revival: the old line stopped running in 1961 and the rails were relaid in 1990. At the bottom of the hill the Tünel funicular has been dropping to the water since 1875, the second-oldest underground railway in the world after London's. Two churches stand back from the avenue rather than on it — Santa Maria Draperis and the Armenian Üç Horan — and most people walk past their gates without seeing them. The passages behind the shopfronts differ from one another: some restored and lined with restaurants, others quiet and worn. Duck into one and the crowd noise drops to a murmur of clinking glasses.