We are consuming as we discover

Until just a few years ago, Urla was one of those places that could maintain its own rhythm despite being right next to İzmir. Its appeal—with its sea, vineyards, olive groves, villages, and still-untouched coves—was not in being flashy, but on the contrary, in its ability to remain far from ostentation.

Now, however, there is another reality facing Urla: In the age of social media, the time between a place being discovered and it beginning to be consumed is getting shorter.

A photo of a cove is shared. The location is tagged. A few videos are filmed. The algorithm carries the image to tens of thousands of people. Before long, those small coves, which were previously visited only by those who knew the region, turn into spots where dozens or even hundreds of vehicles try to descend.

The problem is not people coming to Urla. Urla is no one's private property. The problem is a human pressure greater than what nature can handle being directed toward the same spots without any planning or oversight.

The New Landscape of Virgin Coves

There are still coves on the shores of Urla that have not been developed, lack even an asphalt road, and largely preserve their natural character. This is precisely why they are valuable.

But today, the landscape left behind after the weekend in some spots is thought-provoking: plastic bottles, beer cans, disposable plates, bags, cigarette butts, and trash left haphazardly…

While we think we are making it easier for people to reach nature, we are actually making it easier for nature to be consumed.

Moreover, the issue is not just visual pollution.

You can pick up a plastic bottle. A municipal worker can remove a bag the next morning. But you may not be able to reverse the consequences of a cigarette butt thrown into the middle of dry Aegean maquis.

One Butt, Thousands of Hectares

For anyone who knows the nature of Urla and its surroundings in the summer months, the risk of fire is not a theoretical issue.

Grass that hasn't seen rain for months, dried-out maquis areas, strong Aegean winds that blow constantly throughout the summer, and high temperatures…

In such a geography, a barbecue lit a few meters away from a forest or maquis area, an uncontrolled fire, or a cigarette or glass bottle thrown on the ground without being extinguished is not just personal irresponsibility. It is behavior that puts the natural heritage of the entire region at risk.

Furthermore, the fact that access to a significant portion of these virgin coves is difficult also makes responding to a potential fire difficult.

The fire department access, parking capacity, waste collection system, or emergency evacuation options for a spot shown to thousands of people in seconds under the title of a “secret cove” on social media do not grow at the same speed.

This is where the fundamental contradiction between social media popularity and the capacity of the real world begins.

The Invisible Responsibility of Social Media

There is a question that content creators also need to ask themselves here:

Is it really necessary to show the location of every beautiful place to thousands of people?

Titles like “Turkey’s Maldives,” “Urla’s secret paradise,” or “the beach no one knows about” may seem extremely innocent in the digital world. But a location share made by an account reaching hundreds of thousands of people is no longer a recommendation between two friends.

This has a consequence in the physical world.

Promoting a venue might mean customers for a restaurant or reservations for a hotel. But when it comes to natural areas, the same logic does not always work.

A restaurant can add tables to accommodate more customers. A cove cannot increase its capacity.

The square footage of the beach does not change. The road does not widen. The maquis area does not become more resistant to fire. The sea does not spontaneously eliminate the waste left in it.

Perhaps the biggest mistake regarding the future of Urla would be to think of the district as an entertainment destination that can accept unlimited tourists.

On the contrary, the value of Urla comes from its limitations.

From its small coves, olive groves, vineyards, village roads, low-scale construction, and the calmness unique to the Aegean…

If, after losing these, all that remains are expensive restaurants with “Urla” written on them, traffic queues, and social media photos, the place we were trying to protect will have already disappeared.

For this reason, restricting vehicle entry to some sensitive coves during the summer, evaluating daily visitor capacity in certain areas, monitoring access much more strictly on days with high fire risk, applying serious sanctions for illegal fires and barbecues, and imposing deterrent fines on those who leave their trash in nature are issues that must now be discussed.

These are not about “keeping people out of Urla.”

On the contrary, it is about managing today’s crowds to be able to leave behind an Urla that can still be visited ten years from now.

To Discover Is Not to Possess

Perhaps the real thing that needs to change is our mentality.

When we discover a place, we do not earn the right to consume it.

Going into the sea, playing music, lighting a barbecue, leaving the car wherever we want, and leaving our trash behind when we leave is not freedom. We are using a common space belonging to others and future generations.

It will not be just municipalities or state institutions that decide how Urla’s virgin coves will look in the coming years.

Everyone who goes there will decide.

The person who shares a location on social media, the person who sees that post and jumps in their car, the person who throws their cigarette on the beach without extinguishing it, and the person who takes their trash with them when they leave in the evening are all part of this story.

Sometimes, the fastest way to destroy a place is to have everyone “discover” it at the same time.