I GO! Edition 33: Almaty: Apples, Altitude & Serendipity

This Week: Almaty, Kazakhstan

There are places that don’t just welcome you - they somehow remember you. Or maybe they mirror something in you - the travel between cultures, languages, and identities, weaving connections and stories as we go... Central Asia. I return again and again to this vast in-between land, with endless steppes, majestic mountains and faces that carry the stories of empires, pilgrims, poets. Here, ancient history breathes in the dust and domes and markets - everything invites you to dream further. Central Asia feels like a threshold - not a destination but a passage - between East and West, myth and future, earth and sky. I love it because it is not loud, but resonant, and people radiate a sincerity, natural hospitality and curiosity that contrasts with the more performative West. There’s a groundedness, a realness, a sense of real encounter. You feel seen, welcomed, unhurried. And the sense of wonder! Because you realise there are still many places on Earth that remain to be discovered. Unveiled slowly - and sensuously.

Almaty, the cultural capital of Kazakhstan

First time in Almaty - despite at least half-a-dozen visits to Kazakhstan over the years. How have I not been here before? It’s quite a sight to wake up there, the snow capped Trans-Ili Alatau Moutains majestically circling the city.

They call it the City of Apples because that is where the fruit originates from, and it does feel like a place where something first blossomed. A beginning. A seed. A moment before a big story unfolded.

So even with jet lag still clinging to my bones, it was impossible to resist stepping out into the autumn sun and going exploring.

The Ascension Cathedral with its golden cupolas and pastel walls, oozing with gold, icons and exquisite tilework inside (funny how the Orthodox Church, like its Catholic counterpart, has made its own arrangements with the teachings of Jesus on humility and frugality…)

The Central Mosque, serene and vast, echoing with quiet devotion.
And then - the market: an overflow of colour and scent. Shiny aubergines, fragrant herbs, pyramids of jewel-bright pomegranates, strawberries still warm from the sun, mountains of dried fruit and saffron-gold spices, drizzling with jarred honeycomb and dried tea leaves, reminding us that food is memory, geography, civilisation.

Ste(e)pped in the past and forward-looking

I was in Almaty to moderate a panel for the IMF - a conversation on Central Asia’s economic outlook, resilience, and ambition. (The region’s dynamism and urban verticality always surprises those who still cling to outdated clichés.)

And yet, as often happens in travel, the most extraordinary moment had nothing to do with schedules or agendas.

After the panel, a couple of radiant women kindly approached me - and amongst them the beautiful Aliya. Warm. Curious. Smart. Bright-eyed. A mother of three, like me, and very worldly since she was educated and lived all over the planet.

A couple of hours later we were in a car together, leaving the city and driving through the golden forests and fresh-watered streams towards the Trans-Ili Alatau Mountains on a whim.
A stranger, suddenly a companion.
This is my favourite kind of serendipity - when life taps you on the shoulder and says, Go on - trust this moment.

Our destination: Aluya, one of the world’s most exciting restaurants (it was listed among the 16 Most Beautiful Restaurants in the World by Prix Versailles, the architecture award for restaurants, hotels & shops under the umbrella of UNESCO) in 2024. Perched in the mountainous Medeu district of Almaty, it gave it both altitude and a sense of escape from the city swirl.

Because the location is elevated (over 1,700 m above sea level) and nestled against the Tian Shan foothills, the ambience includes mountain air, a sense of remoteness, and an almost sacred hush that complements the cuisine.

Auyl describes itself as “neo-nomad cuisine” rooted in the traditions of Central Asia while reimagining them through a modern fine dining lens.

The building is housed in former Soviet-era residence for dignitaries; the architects and artisans have re-worked the space into something both bold and inviting.

Walking in, you feel the heritage of the steppe meeting contemporary sophistication. Chairs and carpets recall nomadic textiles; natural materials, soft lighting, and an open kitchen (as stage) give it a theatrical yet intimate vibe. An area where diners can seat or even eat lying down on the floor, nomad-style.

Aliya and I talked about nomadic culture, motherhood, femtech, entrepreneuship, feminine power and energy, whilst tasting delicious, fresh, earthy food deeply rooted in local ingredients and traditions - water, flour, berries, grains and meat: the elemental ingredients of steppe cooking. But the execution is elevated: open fire, qazan (cauldron), mangal grill, tandoor oven.

Chef Ruslan Zakirov leads the kitchen; a dish might reference a traditional steppe stew, but be served in an artfully plated way, with refined techniques and deep flavour layering. The combination of locality and creative reinterpretation is what gives Auyl that irresistible spell.

I always say I love Central Asia because it lives in the in-between - a crossroads of civilisations, myths, and futures, where history moves under your feet like silk.

Here, magic still feels possible.
The world feels wide and surprising.
A stranger can become a friend over mountains and horsemeat

And because each time I leave, I already know I’ll return.