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.