Kurtuluş is the neighbourhood that used to be Tatavla — the Greek and Armenian working quarter north of Beyoğlu, emptied across the twentieth century by the 1923 population exchange, the 1942 wealth tax, the 1955 pogrom, and the 1964 expulsions. Renamed Kurtuluş — liberation — in 1929 after a fire. The Greeks still call it Ταταύλα; Istanbul's Rum population is now in the low thousands citywide, down from over a hundred thousand a century ago.
Two and a half kilometres, gentle gradient, the architectural ghost the whole way. Osmanbey metro is the entry. Walk north up Kurtuluş Caddesi — the spine. The Belle Époque apartments on either side carry the residue: ornate cornices, Greek script over doorways for a vanished bourgeoisie, every other building a small monument to people who aren't here.
Aya Eleftherios is the surviving Greek Orthodox parish — services on Sundays and feast days, otherwise quiet. A few old Tatavla bakeries are still working if you know where to look. The mahalle is multi-ethnic working-class now — Roma, Kurdish, Afghan, Anatolian-arrival — and the layered character is part of why the walk works. Back to Osmanbey.
