Salvador Dali

Sunglasses worn in a nightclub: as endearing
in Kazakhstan as anywhere else in the world.

I promised to review one more Night Time Club before Christmas so here it is. I love clubbing.

But first I'd like to say a very big thank you for the 1500+ visits here in the last few months. Taking my mum out of the equation I estimate that at least 10 other people have visited! It's been a real joy for me sharing the ins and outs of life in Astana with you. 

I'll be back in the new year leaving no bench unmentioned and no guide book unscathed.

Salvador Dali: terrible bar service, rip-off drinks, a good cover band who were quickly replaced by a DJ-in-the-spotlight playing mediocre music with as much continuity as a phone call while you drive through the Mont Blanc tunnel.

No chance of usurping Kazbar.

 

Aishat enjoys waiting three hours to be served at the bar.

Blink or you'll miss it

It's getting pretty cold now. I used to make the 100m dash from my apartment to work without my nostrils freezing but now that happens within a few seconds of being outdoors. It's down to -30C these days and I have to keep blinking to avoid my eyelashes freezing together.

Silver fox: I've aged fourty years since arriving here

It takes less than a minute for icicles to form on my eyelids and eyebrows, and my breath lands on my hair and freezes; in the picture above hair that wasn't covered by my hat is frozen and my eyelashes each host an icicle.

Burger Mix vs Sky Bar

We took Doug out to Sky Bar for his birthday; it's only two floors up but its huge panoramic glass wall gives a good view of many of the shiny new tacky towers of Astana.

Despite the impressive scene, the music is deafening and the inevitable gazillion TV screens are also included, half with MTV as usual and the other half with flight times - the bar is relatively near the airport so you could meet there for a goodbye meal before flying off, all the while keeping an eye on your flight.

Silver lining: Burger Mix, next door to the inferior Sky Bar

In fact, that would be a terrible plan because the service is horrifically slow. After waiting the best part of two hours for Jamie's pizza we decided to leave (Jamie was convinced that they'd noticed we were angry but I pointed out that angry British people look just the same as other British people: calm and polite). Even getting the bill was arduous.

In a shade of irony, given that this was a bad service experience, Doug and I enjoyed some fantastic trout, probably the best food I've had in Astana.

The silver lining to this cloud of birthday misery is Burger mix: ten metres away from Sky Bar and sells beers and burgers for a tenth the price of Sky Bar and all served promptly; The burgers came hot and in fresh bread and were delicious. We resolved to hang out at Burger Mix in the future! 

SCATtered all the way to Shymkent

by Nisha Patel

My companions and I took the early evening flight on SCAT to Shymkent, the capital of South Kazakhstan and the third largest city on the Kazakh steppe. On mentioning to my Kazakh colleagues that I was heading to Shymkent, I was met with bemusement. You do know that it’s wild and lawless, don’t you? Why would a single female possibly wish to go there, when she had the shiny shopping malls of Astana on her doorstep? I was intrigued by their description of manic driving and wife stealing; and the thought of being kidnapped, hauled onto horseback and ridden across the steppe, whilst partaking in the traditional horseback kissing game Kuuz Kuu (‘catch the girl) appealed to my romantic side.

Steppe away from the cookie jar

With its unfortunate appellation, SCAT was not a particularly exciting prospect. Concernedly, I recollected the not so delightful in-flight services of Aeroflot to Tokyo, via Moscow. Besides the few horror stories of broken seats, and that oh so unpleasant Soviet service with a smile OR NOT, that I’d heard about, what didn’t instill me with great confidence was the knowledge that SCAT has been identified as having ‘serious safety deficiencies’ by the Aviation Safety Network and banned from flying in EU airspace. Oh well, I’d be scattered across the big blue Kazakh sky. A pleasant surprise then to find smiley air hostesses, a moist edible sandwich (except for the limp lettuce), a considerable choice of beverages, and a smooth landing at Shymkent airport 1hour 20minutes later! I felt we were off to a good start.

Modern bench

A modern bench.

I passed this bench the other day, on the way to see Chris Hoy's muscular tuchas power him home as world cycling champ. It was cold and windy, out on the edge of town where the wind arrives after endless miles of uninterrupted steppe; but I couldn't resist risking frostbite to catch a snap of this modern piece of urban kit. It's a lovely bench: elegant modern arms and - quite sensibly - a wooden seat. Certainly worth a mention.

We've found our Nisha

Nisha

Nietzsche

Niche

They say you have to find your niche in life. Maybe they don't. Who even are they? Anyway, I'm very excited to announce a new contributor to the blog. Yes, a new contributor!

Please give a very warm welcome to Nisha, not a nineteenth century German philosopher with a very large moustache, but a twenty first century super-heroine who will be travelling the width and breadth of Astana and indeed the great country of Kazakhstan to bring you something a so-called 'guide book' couldn't dream of: an actual feel for this place, the nitty gritty, those everday little things that make a big difference.

Nisha, I'm very excited you'll be writing on the blog, fire away!

One mall to rule them all

I’m not a Lord of the Rings fan so I’m not making any references here. I’m pretty neutral about the whole thing actually, it’s just that big long boring books are big long and boring. I’m less neutral about the films, they’re horrific.

Astana from the Duman: the Triumph of Astana, plus four nearby malls.

Shopping malls are rife in Astana. We’ve visited the mothership MEGA, and been down the road to Saryarka with its elegant benches, and we’ll pop along to Asia Park soon with its Sky Bar; but on the same road within just a few hundred metres of all of these beacons of capitalism is Khan Shatyr, the King’s Tent. It’s shaped like a tent but on a large scale; it’s an homage to the tents (yurts) that were only recently the homes of nomads in this region. Remember to read ‘homage’ as ‘omarzh’ and to feel like a culture critic when you do so.

Khan Shatyr: gold dust for a guide book. Norman Foster, etc.

It’s an elegant steel structure covered in polymer pockets and it is nothing short of spectacular.

They say it’s 135m high, which would make it as high as the London Eye and I expected to be awed by the size of this thing. Actually most of the 135m is a spire on the top so it’s not MASSIVE, it’s just really big. Almost everything is contained in the big pile of earth below the large stretched polymer cap which is – perhaps appropriately – just full of hot air.

Debenhams and an Addidas store are among the many Western tenants, along with Green’s supermarket.

Inside, nothing short of a fairground: a vertical
drop ride, a train, a beach (top floor), and a
small man with big eyes looking in the
Jeweller's window.

Anyway, what’s it like inside Khan Shatyr? There’s a big open area in the middle under the tent which is used for all sorts of terrible events like catwalks and opera singers with drum soaked backing tracks. I’m expecting to see the Daz people there one day – look, the stain has completely gone!

The way all the shops flow is really good here – there are no straight lines, everything is curved; and you can get everywhere via different routes, so it feels very free and not particularly oppressive like some malls do. It’s a Montessori shopping experience!

There’s floor after floor of shiny shops, and on the top floors pool tables, a log flume, and a beach. Thousands of miles from the sea, 30C below freezing, and a beach. I almost forgot to mention the train at the top that gives you a tour of the place.

A limited selection of Vodka in Green's, inside Khan Shatyr

It’s mostly naturally lit in the day, and at night there’s searchlights beaming up to the translucent tent cover. I’m not sure what they’re searching for but they seem pretty keen and it looks exciting from the outside.

A really, really impressive place.

A Hoy here!

Not just any Hoy, but Chris Hoy, THE Chris Hoy, Sir Lord Darth Hoy. I was in the queue with him in the canteen, the lofty masked despot that he is; he was trying to order Penne Al Arrabbiata without a tray. An altercation ensued (‘you’ll need a tray!’). 

Hoy and mighty: he'll need a tray

Really, though, Chris Hoy was here for the World Cycling Club Union Championship Indoor Cycling Games Championship, at the Velodrome in Astana. At the people’s expense, they have built a fantastic velodrome here, right next to where we live, in the shape of a giant cycling helmet. It’s proper tack from the outside but inside is fabulous - in particular the arena itself. An elegant single span space-frame roof and a beautifully laid wooden track.

Women on treadmills make the arena rotate at high speed

It could not escape our attention that the cyclists had remarkable thighs. Anyway, distractions aside, cycling is EXCITING! In particular the sprint. We watched our boy Hoy from just a few metres away as his cumbersome thighs drove him to an even higher stratospheric status than before. Whoop. A really exciting day, except for the horror of the icy wind – winter is gonna be long!

I forget this British rider's name - probably because
she wasn't on a shredded wheat advert.

Ciao Almaty

Considering how much I've wittered on about it, it's hard to believe we were only in Almaty four days. Here's some other highlights from the trip. See you back in Astana for killer benches, mega malls, and lovely curves ...

Three boys and a Cathedral. Can we stop talking about guide books now?

Nobody knows the cause of
Almaty's pollution problem

But litter is not a problem!

The giant mountains overlooking the city are stunning.

We were treated to an incredibly warm welcome and delicious food
by our colleague Saulye and her parents. Thanks for having us!

The sun recedes behind the mountains, seen here through the pollution.
And the sun sets on our trip too ... bye bye Almaty!

Almaty benchmark

You've gathered by now that we thoroughly love Almaty and I want to focus now on that all important category in this city - one your guide book is sure to miss - which is of course its benches.

Here I will present a selection of Almaty's finest glute-warmers, and then you can vote for the finest bum cuddler of them all (vote on the right-->). Before we start, let's recap on the merits of that very fine invention, the humble servant of the metropolis, the bench. The anatomy of a bench begins with the seat, and the other essential component is the legs. The optional arm rest and back are common; and in Kazakhstan we almost invariably find a bench with its own loyal bin at its side.

Boulevard of dreams - a classic

Above is the first entry 'Boulevard of dreams'. This classic is more than a bench, it's a whole setting. An ergonomic seat and trusty back are accompanied by a bin and this set is repeated along this capacious sidewalk, with Almaty's finest autumnal dendrites providing shade and colour in the perfect hue and intensity. Sit and read poetry, romance your lover, take a simple quiet moment alone, or just walk on by and appreciate this zenith of civilisation.

Slender legs - simple and elegant

Next up is 'slender legs'. This modern number is progressive by anyone's standards, confidently and stylishly standing without a bin, arms or a back. Simplicity yet oozing elegance. There's no specially manicured setting here - this bench just sits humbly on a tiled spot outside a shop, raised a little above the pavement. Forget illusions of grandeur, a bench is a bench and while there may well be a very fine cheek charmer atop a mountain afar, this bench is in the thick of it in the city, exactly where it should be. If you're pacing up a pavement requiring a rest, or stumbling on a sidewalk starving for a siesta, then this minimal and, dare I say, efficient assemblage is your best friend.

Essex legs - 'the only way is Almaty'

But we cannot rest! We must continue! And here we have something very special. Backless and armless but with a bin (not pictured), this robust bar for bum squatting sits atop the grandest bench legs I've ever known. These stone flying tiger statues remind me of those closely packed semis in Essex with massive, incongruous Greek pillars and stone lions in the front garden. The only way is Almaty!

Calamity - a text-book disaster, but worse

Next up is 'Calamity'. Located in Kok-tubae, with stunning views over the city of Almaty, this is the perfect place for a perch, but here we part with perfection and preposterous planning begins: the benches are located just behind some tall trees, so that the view is totally obscured. Adding insult to injury, the benches have a repulsive concrete recess cut into the grassy hill, are host to a ferociously offensive green paint, have a short, shallow back (the worst kind!), have no bin, and are cold, cold metal. All of this is merely a disaster, but what makes it a calamity is the configuration of the three benches. Even in terrential rain I would still prefer to sit on the grass beside than join this tremendous travesty.

Mountain view: another great all rounder

Finally we have 'Mountain view' a backless bench with loyal bin and elegant arm rests. Keeping things simple and flexible but with subtle character also in the design, this bench sits in a stunning setting, with local evergreens complemented by the mighty Medeu ice-rink and the mountains beyond. What better way to wait for the bus?

Vote now!
(see top of blog homepage for poll)

Pipe dreams

A scenic hike just outside Almaty.

Almaty is a big city, famed for its traffic jams, but it’s actually very easy to get out of. We took a normal local bus up the hills where mansions have replaced orchards and, within minutes, got off at the end of the line and were out of the city and in the fresh mountain air.

We began walking up the road, past the novelty yurts and continued our quiet ascent surrounded by long wild grass, large green mountains, and glorious sunshine. We were in search of a large water pipe which we hoped to hike up beside all the way to Big Almaty Lake. The pipeline takes a more direct route than the zig-zag road, so is a good way to make it to the lake by lunch time.

Steep water pipe

We passed a remote building site which seemed to be a hydropower plant under construction, and finally came across a very large pipe at an angle which initially seemed too steep to climb. It was a good workout hiking up the pipe, and it was great to be outdoors in fresh air and doing exercise.

Concrete monolith

Snow began to appear in the shadows and within a few hours there was snow almost everywhere and the trees had slowly become entirely evergreen. It was that perfect time of year where there was bright, crisp snow, yet it was warm enough to wear just a t-shirt while hiking.

We passed a concrete monolith that was some kind of lookout tower and which I thought was very Goldeneye (I think I was pre-disposed to compare everything on the outskirts of Almaty to something in Goldeneye; the dam and the concrete monolith were just the low hanging fruit!). 

Big Almaty Lake

Finally, we arrived at Big Almaty Lake and had that ‘wow’ moment as we first saw it. The colour of the lake changes throughout the year; for us it was a stunning turquoise – a really surreal colour. The lake is named after the Big Almaty River which feeds it, but the lake itself is not that big. 

		Another one for my mum

It was a glorious Saturday afternoon so I expected this to be a popular activity but we were basically alone the whole time. We found a big old pine tree; I hugged the tree and was convinced that it wanted us to sit beneath it and have a picnic; the others gave me a funny look. The sun shone brightly through the thin air and reflected off the shimmering lake and the white mountains; there was a warm, fresh breeze and welcome silence. We enjoyed a very picturesque picnic and those who were so disposed had a doze with natural pillows.

Leafy Almaty

Urban, conrete, Soviet; but with charm

Welcome to the home of the apple! Orchards aplenty, boulevards a many; grided roads like New York, gridlocked roads like Sao Paulo; uphill roads like San Francisco, high altitude like Mexico City; so basically a bit like Berlin but not really, all set in the stunning Tian Shan mountains. The city of Almaty, Kazakhstan's largest and, as the Lonely Planet would probably say, 'most cosmopolitan city - a cultural and financial centre', is lush. I do dislike guide books immensely! 

The apple supposedly originates here in leafy Almaty; more certainly, the apple's extinction will begin here - the orchards are actually all but destroyed by 'ill-considered building developments' as one horrible guide book puts it. 

 

Autumn in full swing

First stop: Medeu. I can't help you with the pronunciation of this, other than to suggest emphasising the second 'e' but making more of an 'eh' sound, but cross it with an 'ow' sound. So get someone to poke you with a pin while simultaneously trying to say 'eh'. Me-DEH(ow)-eu. As you can tell, Russian lessons are progressing at about the same rate as the Turan Express train.

Me-DEH(ow)-eu is an Olympic sized skating rink, so basically it's massive, nestled in the mountains above Almaty. If you read a guide book it will tell you the very unimportant 'fact' that Medeu is the highest altitude Olympic sized skating rink in the world; your book may mis-quote it as the highest or biggest skating rink in the world, but it is neither. Please wash your hands after using your guide book. Yuck.

Almaty: 'nestled' in the mountains, according to a leading guide book.

I was looking forward to skating on a big rink, and to showing off my skating skills to my friends. However, the president of Azerbijan must not have realised we were coming and quite crassly decided to visit Me-DEH(ow)-eu at the same time; the place was on lock down with policemen everywhere and certainly no skating. It was nice to see so many big hats.

Medeu in a cloud. See guide book for irrelevant details.

The ice-rink is massive, and its apparent size was exaggerated by the cloud which we were in at the time: it was never possible to see from one end to the other. There's a gigantic metal sculpture of some speed skaters, and classically colossal flood lights whose rays couldn't cut through the cloud. The place had an air of mystery about it; and the shear size of it seemed very soviet. I actually don't know why. Maybe I just wanted it to seem soviet.

Steps up the dam. Guide books are bad.

We walked beyond the rink and up the steps on the adjacent dam which stops mud slides engulfing Almaty. Your guide book may tell you there are 831 steps up the dam; it may say 840; it may say 842. Be careful with those things, they're both useless and dangerous. 

We climbed the steps, turned down a very generous offer from a taxi driver to commandeer our worldly wealth in exchange for a short trip higher up the mountain, enjoyed the view of the cloud from above - vastly different to its appearance from below - and returned down the steps to the sound of the Russian national anthem being belted from the huge speakers on the enormous PA system at the undisputed heavywight ice-rink champion of the world, Med-DEH(ow)-eu, and got the bus back to town for some seriously delicious lamb at a resturant whose name is too long to remember.

All aboard, the NIGHT train!

James Brown: a night train

We took the 'Turan Express' night train down to Almaty. Far from express, this 19 hour journey is for people who aren't in a hurry; this includes us as we were taking a few days off. Three of us travelled, and the cabins hold four persons, so excitement grew as the time came close and we wondered who our mystery fourth travelmate would be.

There is a faster train, and indeed one with a toilet that's not super rank, but we took this train to 'enjoy the scenery', i.e. save some money, but also we heard that it's a great experience: that we'll make new friends who offer us food and ply us with vodka which it's impolite to refuse. Real lonely planet stuff.

Doug Lazenby: a crossword

We brought vodka and all sorts of home made food for the adventure. Our cabinmate turned out to be a lovely Kazakh man who before long had given us a pot of delicious natural honey. He was on his way to Mecca, making hajj; hence the vodkathon didn't materialise!

Many people from around here are puzzled by our desire to take the train, so let's hover on that for a moment. Firstly, the steppe is actually interesting the first few times you see it.

Stove: this is no Pendolino

More importantly trains are a pleasure to be onboard anyway: plenty of space and time to do crosswords (above right). This particular train had coal fired heating on each carriage (left), and there was a tap dispensing hot water to make tea whenever you wish. Rad!

Forget being stuck in a car; forget losing your luggage after check-in, your dignity after security, and your health after sitting in a sealed tube with 100 other people's exhaust for hours. Consign coaches to the past - a primtive form of torture. It's all about the train, the night train. They rock you to sleep, they arrive in the centre of town, and they save you the cost of a night's accommodation. Three cheers for night trains.

Keywords: steppe, puddle, industry

For the return journey we got the 'Ispanski' (Spanish train), which takes a mere 12 hours. This functional machine, faster, more efficient, with plastic walls and an airline style toilet, does everything you'd wish but without the soul (or the space) that the mis-named express train offers. However, with a clean toilet, it was a happy medium. This time we did meet someone keen to polish off multiple bottles of Russian water; some of us - I won't name Doug's name - were plenty keen to join in.

All in all, some very happy travelling experiences. 

Left: strange friend; right: friendly stranger Ispanksi: functional

Steppes top chart

In celebration of world pop group Steppes hitting no.1 in the UK album chart, we've decided to go on a pilgrimage to their origin in Kazakhstan: the great steppe. In their early days Steppes played gigs supporting Genghis Khan and were later signed to bigger labels such as the Tsars and the USSR - the latter of which was a period where the band produced the hit single Better Best Forgotten, written about the gulag, Chain Reaction, which is about the nuclear test sites, and Tragedy which is about the ecological disaster in the Aral Sea area.

World pop group, Steppes. Big, arid, and tragic.

When the USSR record label broke up the band followed the trend at the time and signed up to an independent label in 1991. They released the single It's The Way You Make Me Feel to explain why they left the USSR label [citation needed]. The band threatened to break up but have stayed together over the years.

The change game

Hats with large diameters

Kazakhstan is changing beyond recognition yet there is no change anywhere in the country! Everywhere we go, when we pay for something we're given a stern look and are told something in Russian; we reply with nipanymayoo (don't understand) apologetically; but we get the gist: they're asking for the correct change.

Of course, we don't have the right change, because we carefully counted it out for the last person - all we have left is notes! So because everyone needs change, nobody has any change.

Gotham architecture

This is the Triumph of Astana building, which to me has Gotham City written all over it. It's a magnificent building, absolutely massive. On a grey day I expect batman to be standing on one of the top corners, his cape undulating in the breeze, looking down on the doomed metropolis that he is trying to save.

Triumph of Astana: home to Wayne enterprises

Astana is in fact a shiney, new, medium sized city which is impressively clean and very peaceful. It's full of aspiring bureaucrats, technocrats - career people. In fact, it wouldn't be unfair to accuse Astana, shiney as it may be, of lacking a bit of soul. Everything's new new new, which is exciting, but there's a bit of a lack of history. And so the Triumph of Astana is a very welcome building: it may be new, but it looks so formidable and adds a lot of weight to a place which otherwise feels quite light.

The Triumph of Astana is built in the style of the so-called 'Seven Sisters' - seven Stalinist gothic skyscrapers in Moscow. So some people see the building is a bit of a 'look what we can do' symbol from Kazakhstan to its former master.

A night at the opera

Doug enjoys the opera

Culture and that, we went to the opera. Doug paid 400 Tenge in advance for his ticket, while I turned up and paid 300 Tenge on the door. Doug had the last laugh though as, after a lot of Russian chat - of which I understood nothing - I, with my cut-price ticket, was given a chair in the isle and had to sit there for the first part of the opera. Not comfortable.

Our tickets both cost less than $2, so all of this is (heavily subsidised) peanuts. Thus, it may not surprise you to hear that the quality of the opera was mediocre. What would I know? Nothing, but I asked David, a charming Scotsman who a) speaks fluent Russian, b) is an Opera singer, and c) was also there with us. David is an impressive man. The opera is not. It's not a man so that doesn't make sense, I just mean the opera wasn't impressive. The exception was the lead (Violetta?) who was really good.

The young guy was played by an old guy, the old guy was played by a young guy, and they all sang Italian in a Russian accent (the Russian subtitles really helped clarify the plot for me!). Luckily with opera it seems you don't actually need to know the meaning of the words to get the gist of the story. They fall in love and someone dies. No surprises there. This was La Traviata, this was a really fun night out.

Arched bench

The Saruarka shopping mall (you've got to really roll the last 'r' - Saru-arrrrka, like an arc) is architectureally indistinct - a big boxy building - but inside it's lovely. It's big, light and has open, flowing spaces with great curves. In particular I found this arched bench quite charming. One for the album! It means a few friends can sit on it and feel that little bit more sociable. 

Astana does have such lovely benches.

Likewise two stuffy Brits could sit on it facing opposite directions (see Bench for two ...), one looking down over the shoppers below (lonely?), the other facing the windows of the shops upstairs (aspirational?). Probably they're just exhausted from shopping. Astana has more shopping malls than the rest of the world combined. This place is literally a stone's throw from MEGA center, and another stone's throw will get you to the Khan Shatyr - the 'king's tent'. Now Buzz Lightyear may think the MEGA center is the mothership; meanwhile he'd walk on by the Saruarka mall without blinking an eye; but the Khan Shatyr, that really is something else - I think Buzz Lightyear will want to stay firmly rooted on Earth once he finds Khan Shatyr. I'll tell you about it soon!

Return of the toilet signs

The sign on the toilets is of course a cyrillic 'zh', which is the first letter of the word 'zhenshina' (женщина) for woman. The origin of this word is that women in the former USSR used to have six legs until capitalism came and saved them from that horrible fate.

The other toilets, I have discovered, have a letter M which is for male in Russian (мужчина), so we can only presume that capitalism saved men here from a life somehwhat similar to a daddy-long-legs.