We spend lots of time walking up and down İstiklal Caddesi (Istiklal Street). It is one of the most vibrant places in Istanbul and one of the rare places you can see people outside the mainstream parading (reasonably) confidently. It's still what I don't see that surprises me, so different from the 'anything goes' vibe of similar streets in London. This is a great place to take teenagers to eat, pose, catch a movie, and maybe a protest. As you pass the Galatasaray  High School you could tell them about the 'Saturday Mothers' who for years stood here bravely every Saturday in vigil for their disappeared relatives. I let my brother stay on this street by himself while I packed for our flight to England a few years ago and he turned up just as we were heading for the taxi.  He was 15, 6 foot, blonde and beautiful (now even more so) and it was the first place in Istanbul he felt completely at ease (I probably shouldn't have sent him to a football match at Beşiktaş' stadium!). In another escapade on this street Ville's Mum broke her leg here before it was pedestrianised. The doctor who came to their hotel room preferred to address Uffi (Ville's Dad) rather than her and the event has a certain ring of comedy though it must have been horrible at the time!

For Anton this is the street of the old-fashioned tram, with a bell that chimes its whole journey to shift people from its path. It is also the street that leads to the Tünel funiculer, that takes us down to the delights of Karaköy. It is also so busy that I prefer him sat in his pushchair so I can at least avoid him being picked up and petted, or carried across the street for a picture, so my photographs of him here are few. Yesterday I spotted these concrete structures that are being buried under the street to hold cables, and decided to get some pictures before they disappear from view. They provided a perfect hideout from which Anton could watch the street. He had a great time.