There is a place in Türkiye where the land leans softly into the sea, and the trees seem to know your name. Yalova—a city not large, not loud, but deeply alive—rests gently on the southern coast of the Marmara Sea, offering something the world is quietly starving for: balance.
Yalova is not built to impress. It is shaped to welcome. Here, the rhythm is slower. The people, warmer. The streets, quieter. And yet, the city carries a soul that stretches back to ancient civilizations and forward into a more tender future.
To arrive in Yalova is to remember how good it feels to simply breathe.
A City of Roots: From Bithynia to Atatürk
Long before its present name, Yalova was part of the ancient region of Bithynia, a crossroads of cultures. Romans, Byzantines, and Ottomans have all walked these hills and bathed in these waters. But the city’s most recent guardian angel was none other than Mustafa Kemal Atatürk, the founder of modern Türkiye.
Atatürk once said, “Yalova benim kentimdir.” – “Yalova is my city.” And so it became a place of retreat and reflection for him. One of his most beloved legacies here is the Yürüyen Köşk—the “Walking Mansion.” When a sycamore tree near his wooden house was about to be cut to make space, Atatürk ordered the house to be moved instead. The building was shifted several meters to preserve the tree.
This is the spirit of Yalova: don’t dominate nature—walk with it.
Thermal Waters and the Art of Healing
Yalova’s true heart lies just outside the city center, in the lush village of Termal, where hot springs have bubbled from the earth since Roman times. Surrounded by pine forests and birdsong, these thermal waters have drawn everyone from sultans to poets, from travelers to locals in need of rest.
Rich in sulfur and minerals, the waters are known for easing ailments—physical and emotional alike. But more than medicine, these springs offer a sacred pause. To soak here is to surrender—to the warmth, the quiet, and the invitation to begin again.
In a world that runs too fast, Termal teaches us how to slow down with grace.
Nature That Nurtures
Though close to Istanbul, Yalova never lost its soul to urban sprawl. It is a green city, where chestnut trees shade winding roads, and hiking trails rise into hills lined with wildflowers and springs.
Visit Sudüşen Waterfall, hidden among forest paths, and you’ll hear nature’s lullaby. You’ll meet villagers who still collect herbs with hands older than most cities. You’ll understand that not all forests are for conquering. Some are for listening.
The coastline is no less healing—sunsets over the Marmara Sea turn the water rose-gold, and in every breeze, you feel something ancient brushing past: a calm that knows no calendar.
A City of Kindness in the Everyday
Yalova’s strength is not in marble monuments or towering skyscrapers. It is in its people. The woman at the market who gives you an extra bunch of mint. The man who stops his bicycle to guide you when you’re lost. The tea offered before you ask. The conversations that begin with “Where are you from?” and end with “You are always welcome here.”
This is not politeness. It is hospitality rooted in sincerity, a cultural instinct to care without condition.
And it’s everywhere: in seaside cafes, village mosques, schoolyards, and old railway stations. Kindness here isn’t a gesture—it’s a way of life.
Let the World Learn from Yalova
Let us learn from Yalova that healing is not a luxury. It is a birthright—and it begins with honoring the natural rhythms around and within us.
Let us remember that cities don’t need to grow fast to be strong. They need to grow in wisdom, in warmth, in welcome.
Let us believe that a small city by the sea, with old trees and warm baths, can teach the world more about living than a thousand seminars on success.
Let us begin again—with Yalova.
Where houses move to protect trees.
Where water holds warmth older than war.
Where green is not for profit—but for presence.
Where every path leads to either forest, sea, or home.
Because the most beautiful world is not built in a hurry.
It is grown, slowly, gently, with every act of care.
It is the world that smells like pine and lavender,
tastes like fresh simit by the sea,
and feels like spring water on tired skin.
That is Yalova.
And in her quiet,
may we hear the world we’re still capable of becoming.