Istiklal After Dark

Istanbul never really goes quiet. Long after the shops on İstiklal Caddesi dim their lights, the street keeps moving: the old red tram pushing slowly through the crowd, a simit seller balancing his tray under a lamppost, cats claiming doorsteps as if they owned the city—and in a way, they do.

I have returned to Türkiye three times, always as a traveller on family holidays, never on assignment. Between the plans we made together, I would find myself drifting a few steps behind with my camera, drawn not to the skyline or the monuments but to the small, unrepeatable moments in between: a vendor's tired glance, strangers sharing the same pocket of light, a stray dog sleeping through the noise beneath Galata Tower.

Across six years, the city changed and so did I, yet its rhythm stayed familiar. This series gathers those walks, from the restless nights of Istanbul to a quiet afternoon in Ankara, where the pace finally slows. It is less a portrait of a city than of the people and animals who give its streets their pulse.