Sole and
Mare

Sole and Mare has worked the Ayayorgi cove for more than seventeen seasons, which in a bay where beach club names change with the paint makes it one of the institutions. The local tourism association credits it with the cove’s most generous footprint, a shoreline of around 400 metres with a pier running out over the clear water, football and volleyball pitches behind the loungers, and a snack bar and restaurant feeding the whole operation. Ayayorgi is famously the one corner of windswept Cesme that stays calm, and this club uses more of it than anyone.

The trade is a day that changes character on a schedule: a swimmable, almost sporting morning, then a climb through the afternoon into DJ sets, guest singers and the happy hours the place is locally famous for. Within our Cesme club directory it is the middle path of the cove, bigger and more casual than the fashion decks either side, and the one the agents flag as workable with children.

Space is the luxury here, and it is a real one. Most Ayayorgi clubs are decks stacked over the water, elegant and elbow to elbow; Sole and Mare’s 400 metres let it hold pitches, a proper pier and enough lounger ground that a reservation buys you distance as well as a place. The water in front is the cove’s calling card, flat and clear when the rest of the peninsula is whitecapped, which is why the swimming from the pier is better than anything the open coast clubs can offer on a windy July day.

Seventeen plus seasons also buys a kind of operational calm. The kitchen runs from snacks to a full restaurant rather than a fryer behind a bar, the entertainment calendar brings recognisable DJs and singers through the summer, and the happy hours are the cove’s most talked about, which is both a recommendation and a warning depending on your afternoon plans.

The honest frictions are the cove’s, not uniquely the club’s. Entry pricing is opaque: the agents selling 2026 list 1,500 TL with a drink included, a spring roundup printed 2,350 TL, and the club itself publishes nothing, directing questions to Instagram messages. The door applies discretion on busy days and groups can be asked about gender balance, standard practice at Ayayorgi and worth knowing before a group of friends drives over. And nothing at this cove is a budget day: there is essentially no free sand, so the entry fee is the price of arrival, not an option.

Ayayorgi is a horseshoe of turquoise water tucked into the hills a few minutes north of Cesme town, sheltered from the wind that defines every other beach on the peninsula. It is almost entirely organised, a chain of clubs shoulder to shoulder with barely a towel’s width of free ground, so the day is paid by definition. Our full Ayayorgi guide maps the clubs along the arc and explains when the cove justifies its premium over the open sand at Ilica.

The cove is a short drive or taxi from Cesme centre, signed for Ayayorgi off the harbour road, and the club keeps parking with fees that shift by season. Booking is informal but necessary: a reservation form on the club’s own site, the phone, or a message to its Instagram account, which is where the club itself directs enquiries. Weekends and holiday dates in July and August sell through the cove’s agents as well, and arriving reserved beats negotiating the door every time.

If you would rather have the back and forth handled, leave your date, group size and whether children are coming below, and we will put the request to Sole and Mare, confirm the entry figure for your date, and come back with what they can hold.