Up the Tünel to Istanbul's İstiklal Avenue — the Nostalgic Tram, Nazar Beads Set into the Pavement, and a Cup of Warm Mulled Wine

I was standing at the bottom of the hill near Karaköy, looking up, and in the end I just took the Tünel. There are a few ways to reach İstiklal Avenue in Istanbul's Beyoğlu distric…

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I was standing at the bottom of the hill near Karaköy, looking up, and in the end I just took the Tünel. There are a few ways to reach İstiklal Avenue in Istanbul's Beyoğlu district — walking leaves you out of breath, and taxis can barely squeeze into these back streets anyway. The fastest option is this short underground funicular, known locally simply as the Tünel. Standing on the platform, I noticed the red car's side panel emblazoned with "İETT 155 YAŞINDA / 155 YEARS." The walls were lined with green tile, and black-and-white panoramas and framed photos of old Istanbul hung close together under the lights — it felt less like a station and more like a small exhibition room. I watched the countdown on the display tick down from 03:45, and once you're actually on board, it really is over in the blink of an eye. There are only two stations, nothing in between.

You tap in with your İstanbulkart. Fares change from time to time, so rather than memorizing a number, it's better to just keep your card topped up with a comfortable balance (check the signage at the turnstile for the current fare). One common mistake first-timers make is trying to tap a single card through the gate for multiple people in a row and getting stuck. I did the same thing myself, trying to tap for my companions too, and got held up for a moment at the gate.

The Star of İstiklal: the Red Nostalgic Tram

Coming up out of the Tünel exit, you're right at the start of İstiklal Avenue. The one shot I really wanted here was the No. 34 nostalgic tram — the red car with TAKSİM - TÜNEL on its front destination board. Honestly, it's more of a moving souvenir than actual transportation. It moves barely faster than walking pace, and people keep cutting in front of and behind it, so getting a clean shot of just the tram is nearly impossible. I took a dozen-odd photos and this was the one that came out. My tip: wait until the tram comes to a complete stop, then crouch down slightly and shoot it head-on. Shoot standing up and you'll always get the back of someone's head in frame.

İstiklal at night is packed with people. Walk a little further in the direction of the photo above and you can see the whole street filled shoulder to shoulder with crowds. Signs for MADO, ESPRESSOLAB, and döner shops alternate down both sides, and far down the street, gold lights are strung across the alley. The sound adds to it too — busking guitar, Turkish pop pouring out of speakers, and the smell of roasted chestnuts from street stalls all hit you at once. With the crowd this dense, it's more comfortable to wear your bag in front.

Nazar Beads Set into the Ground — Something You Only Notice If You Look Down

Walking down one of the side streets that branches off İstiklal toward Galata, I spotted something underfoot. A large stone had dozens of nazar boncuğu (nazar bead) fragments embedded in it — that blue evil-eye charm. Turks believe it absorbs other people's envious glances, and the bad luck that comes with them, on their behalf. Broken pieces were mixed in with intact ones, along with shards of yellow glass, so the whole thing looked like a mosaic. Somehow it struck me far more than any shiny new one hanging in a shop display — this version, worn down underfoot on the street. That single stone told me that in Istanbul, the nazar bead is an everyday object before it's ever a tourist souvenir. Everyone else was walking along looking up at the sky and the shop signs, so this is something only the people who look down ever come across.

The coordinates for this shot are near the map below. It's the area between the southern end of İstiklal (toward the Tünel) and Galata — step off the main street here and it splits straight into hills and alleyways. Walking from the Tünel along İstiklal toward Taksim comes out to roughly 1.4km, about 20–25 minutes if you don't get sidetracked. The problem is, there's no way not to get sidetracked.

Step just one block off the main street and the noise cuts out completely. Alleys like this, where shuttered electronics shops are covered in graffiti and signs like "GALATA" and "Next&NextStar" still hang on the walls. These are commercial back streets that do business by day and go quiet by night, and honestly, I felt like this side was closer to the real face of Istanbul. That said, I wouldn't recommend heading deep into an unfamiliar alley alone late at night. I once took a wrong turn downhill myself and ended up much further down than I meant to, and my calves never really forgave me for the climb back up.

A Terraced Backstreet and an Arched Shop

Then again, some side streets are busier than the main avenue itself. One had layers of gold wreaths and string lights hanging overhead, with cafés on either side pushing their outdoor tables right into the middle of the alley. The reason it felt warm just standing there wasn't the atmosphere — it was the gas heaters. Black-shaded heaters were mounted at every table, so even on a winter night people sat outside in just their coats. One thing I learned here: the moment you sit down in an alley like this, the touting starts, so it's better to ask to see the menu and check prices before taking a seat. Prices can vary quite a bit from one place to the next, even along the same alley.

One shop I stepped into in the same area. A long, narrow space with exposed brick archways overhead, packed floor to ceiling with olive oil, soap, and bottled oils. The ceiling looked like it once belonged to a storeroom or a cellar, and nazar beads and red heart-shaped ornaments hung between the stone walls. It smelled wonderful — a mix of lavender soap and dried herbs. Hand-cut bars of soap were lined up at the counter, each with its own info card, so whatever you picked up, you could actually read the ingredients before buying.

Light displays scattered around the streets are also a hallmark of this season. In front of a wall of evergreen branches strung with lights, a red heart-shaped installation glowed, with "Barnathan İSTANBUL" lit up in yellow inside it. People were lining up to take photos, so I waited my turn and got one too. Spots like this are just clumps of branches by day — nobody gives them a second look. It's only worth coming once the lights switch on in the evening.

In the End, the Highlight of the Day Was a Cup of Mulled Wine

After wandering the alleys for a good while, I ducked into a pub. The moment I sat down at the wooden table, I ordered a warm, freshly heated mulled wine (sıcak şarap). It arrived in a thick cut-glass, topped with a slice of orange. Wrapping my hands around the glass, the warmth against my palms was just right — not so hot I couldn't hold it, but enough to thaw out frozen fingers. Cinnamon and clove hit first, and a sweetness from the orange lingers after each sip. Most of the alcohol cooks off during heating, so it was milder than I expected. After a few hours of walking outside, that one cup honestly stuck with me more than any landmark I saw that day.

To go with it, I ordered a chicken şiş kebab plate. Fan-cut pieces of grilled lavash were laid across a white plate, with charcoal-grilled chicken pieces tucked underneath. Alongside it was a reddish sautéed bulgur pilaf, roasted tomato, and a whole grilled green pepper. The lavash had soaked up the meat's juices, so it was tasty even eaten on its own. My one disappointment was that the chicken breast was a bit dry — if I ordered again, I'd probably go for lamb instead. The green pepper was less spicy than it looked and had a nice aroma, and alternating between it and the mulled wine kept things nicely balanced.

Notes for the Next Person Who Visits

• It's worth taking the Tünel from Tünel up to İstiklal (the uphill direction). The other way is downhill anyway, so you may as well walk.
• Don't expect the nostalgic tram to be a practical way to get around. It moves about as fast as walking, and when it's crowded, you're better off photographing it than riding it.
• Like the nazar beads on the ground, this street has things you can only find by looking down for once.
• Prices change often with the season and exchange rate, which is why I've left numbers out of this piece — check the menu or the turnstile signage on site.
• The hill winds bite hard in this neighborhood on winter nights. The rhythm that worked best for me was walking, then ducking into a heated alley café for a mulled wine, then walking again.