*By Christina Nikolaou
In Nepal these days, nature is reminding us in the harshest way possible that ecosystems have their limits. Devastating floods on the Nepal–Tibet border, following the collapse of a glacier and a rock mass, have caused loss of life and massive destruction. Scientists warn that rising temperatures are increasingly destabilizing mountain ecosystems.
ΣΧΕΤΙΚΑ ΑΡΘΡΑ
And at the same time, on the other side of the world, on a small beach in Cyprus, we’re discussing umbrellas, lounge chairs, and the “development” of Lara.
On the surface, they seem to have nothing to do with each other.
In reality, they do.
Lara is not just one of the most beautiful beaches in Akamas. It is an extremely important breeding habitat for the loggerhead sea turtle (Caretta caretta) and the green sea turtle. The Lara–Toxeftra area has been protected for decades precisely because its ecological value cannot be measured solely in terms of tourism.
And yet, every few years we return to the same question: could Lara be made a little more “organized”? This year, images of umbrellas and tents inside the protected area brought the issue back into the spotlight, while local authorities raise issues concerning access, property, and the rights of local residents.
Advocating for the protection of Lara does not mean ignoring the people who live around it. Environmental protection cannot mean abandoning local communities. On the other hand, the need for economic development cannot serve as a blank check for every form of tourist exploitation.
This is the essence of AKEL’s policy approach: environmental protection, social justice, and sustainable development must go hand in hand. Nature must not be treated as an obstacle to development, but as a prerequisite for development that stands the test of time and supports local communities, without “coexistence” meaning that nature must adapt to every human demand.
In the Himalayas, climate change is no longer a distant threat. Glaciers are retreating, destabilizing a glacial system that holds vast amounts of water. In Lara, we are putting pressure on a coastal ecosystem that serves as a breeding ground for endangered species.
Ecosystems have limits. For decades, we operated under the logic of “development, infrastructure, and tourism first—and if there’s any space left over, then nature conservation and the environment.” The climate crisis demonstrates just how dangerous this mindset is.
Today we know that nature is not merely a “decoration” for our economy. Ecosystems function as protective infrastructure, and when we destroy them, we lose part of our natural defense.
The real question is: what kind of tourism model do we want? Do we want every beach to look like every other beach, with umbrellas, lounge chairs, and facilities? Or can we accept that certain places have value precisely because they remain different?
The solution is not “either people or turtles.” There is a third way: to plan economic activity around nature’s limits.
Cyprus is not Nepal. But it faces its own climate reality: higher temperatures, drought, wildfires, pressure on water resources, and increasing pressure on coastal ecosystems.
That’s why Lara is a test case. We don’t have to wait for an ecosystem to be destroyed before deciding that we should have protected it.
From Nepal to Cyprus, the lesson is the same. We cannot negotiate with a glacier, just as we cannot explain to a turtle that “this year we’ll set aside a few nesting spots.”
Nature doesn’t negotiate its limits. We must decide whether to respect them before we’re forced to learn them the hard way.
P.S. In Lara, this limit is etched in the sand.
*Environmentalist, Head of the Sustainable Development and Sustainability Sector, AKEL Central Committee
