Almaty Unlimited

More importantly, get ready to eat a lot of meat if you are out dining with a local acquaintance — a lot of horse meat, I mean. It’s not for the weak-hearted, but then the Kazaks are large-hearted people.

And, oh, before I forget, English is not used much, so if you don’t know Kazakh or Russian, keep a phrase book handy when you are out walking in the country’s biggest city Almaty, that gets its name from Alma-Ata, literally meaning Father Apple. Apparently, the world’s best apples come from Kazakhstan. I am yet to taste them so no comments.

These were the small but helpful tips that I took with me when I set out to take a walk in a city jammed with some of the flashiest cars in the world and dotted with very trendy and high-end international fashion stores. If you walk down Furmanov Street, you will come across some of the finest boutiques.

Almaty is not exactly a modern city, but a few glass-doused high-rises are coming up, replacing old Soviet-styled buildings that are still prominent landmarks. But it is a rich and an expensive city. An evening out at hip restaurants, bars and clubs that dot the city centre can set you back by a substantial sum of tenges, the local currency that was devalued only a few months ago.

The first thing that strikes you when you land at Almaty is the snow-capped mountains that nearly surround the city. I can also see them from my room at the Intercontinental Hotel located not far from the famous Republic Square in the heart of the city. They look very close, which indeed they are. A 20-minute drive could take you to what is said to be the world’s highest ice-skating rink. It works well with natural snow in the winter.

A peek into the valley in which the city nestles from the television tower at one end shows up the breathtaking expanse. Down in the glittering valley, Almaty’s one million people get about enjoying the oil and gas riches of the country that borders China and has moved fast towards modernising its services to attract investments since the breakdown of the former Soviet Union.

On the Air Astana flight from Dubai, my fellow passenger had snored so hard that I could not take my usual nap. So I had dug into the seat pocket and found the in-flight magazine that had given me a good idea about what to expect of the rich culture that Kazakhs cherish and enjoy. Tengri, the magazine, told me that the airline carried 2.3 million people in 2008 and its fleet increased to 21 with the addition of three new Airbus A320s. Air Astana is a modern airline and run pretty efficiently. The on-board service on a flight packed with families is excellent when compared to some other central Asian carriers.

I read about the Cosmopolitan Bar at Hotel Kazakhstan in Almaty and decide to visit it when I reach the country’s former capital. I also read about local composer Kuat Shildebayev, who has put together scores for several Kazakh films and composed music for ballets. Central Asian folk music make for fascinating listening given their wonderful musical instruments that create captivating sounds. “My music makes people think. You can’t listen to it as background music while you make salad,” Tengri quotes Shildebayev as saying. “You can meditate while listening to my music.” I make a mental note to visit a music store to buy Shildebayev’s compositions.

Unfortunately, I could neither make it to the Cosmopolitan Bar nor could I get to a music store due to time constraints. But I did land up at the Almaty Soho Club, which was buzzing with the young and old humming and dancing to a band belting out hits from the 1980s. Try the Sichaun beef and the English cherry pie, which a fellow British traveller swore was not really English! It was good anyway. The helpings are huge and the ambience relaxing after a long walk in a city where the roads are lined with thousands of trees. Outside, club taxis are available to take you back to your hotel.

Good local food is available aplenty, but do get to the Jeti Kaznya restaurant that stands rather quietly on Ablaihana Makataeva or Pastyra, its old name. An open kitchen that lets out some mouth-watering aromas, carpets on the wall, painted wooden pillars and bright red cushions welcome you to some of the best mantys (dumplings) and shashliks (kebabs) in town. “Meat, meat and meat,” a smiling Aida at the concierge desk at the hotel had told us when we asked her about what we could expect in form of Kazakh food.

At the restaurant, our 23-year-old waiter Murad insisted we try some horse meat. “It’s good and healthy,” he said, putting a generous helping of cold cuts on the table. In the background, Shaizada apa (granny) ushered in hungry clients. At 60, she’s short, full of energy and ever ready to flash a big smile that bares her four glittering gold teeth.

We stagger out, our stomach layered with the fat of horse meat and get into a taxi ordered by Moldri, the receptionist. She has a big smile as she bids farewell. “This is my last day at work here,” she says, switching into Russian to give directions to the cabbie. It’s our last day in Almaty too, I tell her, in English.

rahul@khaleejtimes.com