Almaty, whose name translates to “city of apple trees,” was once the capital and remains the country’s bustling trade and cultural center. Framed by the snow-capped Tien Shan mountains, the city welcomed me with mild autumn weather and a laid-back vibe.
As a solo traveler, I was immediately struck by Almaty’s mix of modern comforts and Soviet-era nostalgia – leafy avenues, concrete Soviet architecture, and colorful public art all coexisting in harmony.
I planned to save money by using public transport, eating street food, and staying in budget hostels. Little did I know that my carefully crafted budget was about to be tested by the incredible opportunities Kazakhstan would throw my way.
Stepping out on my first morning, I wandered into the Green Bazaar, Almaty’s sprawling central market and a foodie’s paradise. The covered market was alive with vibrant sights and smells: piles of fresh apples (a local pride), tubs of kymyz (fermented horse milk), and even tables of cured meats and whole roasted sheep heads. It truly offers “all the authentic flavors of Central Asia,” from horse sausage (kazy) to sweet dried apricots.
I nibbled on warm baursaks (fried dough balls) and samsas for just a few hundred tenge, marveling at how far my money went here – a hearty local snack for the price of a bus fare.
Almaty’s affordability in terms of food and local transport was a relief; a ride on the city bus costs only about 150 tenge (roughly $0.30), and an average meal at a simple café is under 2,500 KZT (about $5) – cheap by most standards. But as I soon learned, Kazakhstan’s true treasures lay outside the city, and reaching them would demand flexibility with my wallet.
Almaty's Culture, Cuisine, and Budget Surprises
In Almaty, I spent my days balancing cultural exploration with cost-conscious choices. I strolled through Panfilov Park to admire the Ascension Cathedral, a towering yellow wooden church that amazingly survived multiple earthquakes intact.
Entry was free, and the park’s serenity was priceless. In the evenings, I joined locals on wooden benches sipping tea and watched families amble through fountains in Republic Square under the glow of the Independence Monument.
Everywhere I went, I was greeted by Kazakh hospitality – warm smiles, the occasional free pastry from a vendor, and curious questions about my journey. These interactions were a beautiful cultural experience that didn’t cost a thing.
However, Almaty also introduced some unexpected expenses early on. For instance, I decided to hire a local guide for a half-day walking tour of the city’s Soviet-era mosaics and landmarks.
It was fascinating to hear stories behind the monumental art pieces adorning old buildings and subway stations, but the guide’s fee – while reasonable – wasn’t in my original plan. I justified it as an investment in context and history. Similarly, after chatting with other travelers at my hostel, I couldn’t resist booking a day trip out of the city.
They raved about a canyon that I “absolutely had to see” and a dazzling mountain lake. I knew these side excursions would squeeze my budget, especially as a solo traveler (no group to split costs with), but I also knew I might never get such chances again.
With a bit of nerves and a lot of excitement, I reworked my itinerary and set aside extra funds for two major splurges: Charyn Canyon and Big Almaty Lake.
Charyn Canyon
I set out at dawn for Charyn Canyon, a natural wonder about 200 kilometers east of Almaty. The journey itself became an adventure – I joined a small group tour in a rattling van, since public transport to this remote area is virtually non-existent.
The tour wasn’t cheap (about 20,000 KZT, or $40+ for the day), but it included transport and a guide, and I was eager to see this canyon I’d heard so much about. As we drove across sun-scorched steppe, I reflected on the cost: this single outing equaled several days’ food budget. But once we arrived at Charyn, all such thoughts evaporated.
The canyon yawned before me, a stunning maze of rusty-red cliffs and strange rock “castles” sculpted by millennia of wind and water. Though smaller than Arizona’s Grand Canyon, Charyn is often described as being equally impressive – standing on the rim, gazing at the Valley of Castles below, I couldn’t agree more.
Hiking down into the canyon, I felt like I’d stepped onto another planet. The red sandstone formations rose around me like the walls of an ancient city. I scrambled over rocks and followed the dusty trail to the Charyn River at the canyon floor, where a ribbon of green vegetation thrives.
My guide explained that Charyn Canyon is part of a national park established in 2004 to protect this fragile environment. The park entrance fee was only a few hundred tenge – “a few dollars at most,” as I’d read – but accessing this remote site required either a rental car or organized tour, hence the higher expense. Looking up at the canyon’s towering “castles” of rock, I knew this splurge was worth it.
We even enjoyed a picnic in the shade of the cliffs (included in the tour), swapping travel stories. By the time we made the steep climb back up, my legs were aching and my water was running low (note to future self: bring more than 1 liter!). Yet I was euphoric.
I had spent more than planned that day, but I’d gained an experience no price tag could match – memories of sunset light turning the canyon gold, and the complete silence of nature except for the wind whispering through the chasms.
Big Almaty Lake
Flush from my canyon adventure, I next set my sights on Big Almaty Lake, an alpine gem in the mountains just south of the city. This trip, I thought, I could do more economically. Instead of a pricey tour, I navigated Almaty’s public transport: I caught the Number 28 bus heading uphill towards the mountains, paying a mere 150 KZT fare (about $0.30) for the ride.
The bus dropped me at the entrance to Ile-Alatau National Park, about 10 km below the lake. Here, a park ranger collected a 200 tenge entry fee per person – the equivalent of just $0.50. I smiled, thinking this excursion might be a bargain. But Big Almaty Lake had other plans for my wallet.
From the park gate, there’s still a long, winding road up to the lake itself, and no official shuttles. I tried hitchhiking for a bit alongside some local students, but eventually we pooled our money to hire an unofficial taxi.
The negotiated rate was 5,000 KZT for the car, split between a few of us – about $11 each for the round trip. So much for doing this at almost no cost! Still, 11 bucks was hardly devastating, and in exchange I gained not only transportation but a few new Kazakh friends who shared the ride. As our van climbed hairpin turns, the air grew cooler and fresher.
Soon the road opened up to a breathtaking vista: Big Almaty Lake shimmering in an unreal shade of blue-green, encircled by towering pine forests and snowy peaks. At 2,511 meters above sea level, this reservoir is literally and figuratively a high point of any Almaty visit.
Standing on the shore, I was struck by the lake’s pristine beauty. The water was so clear and vibrantly turquoise that it looked almost Caribbean – except it was fed by glaciers! I learned that the lake’s color changes with the seasons from deep turquoise to a pale green, and it serves as Almaty’s drinking water supply, so swimming is forbidden. No matter – just gazing at it was enough.
I spent a peaceful hour wandering the trails above the lake, snapping photos and even spotting an eagle wheeling overhead. My impromptu friends and I shared some snacks (chocolate and locally dried apricots) and took turns helping each other get the perfect photo with the lake as backdrop.
When our driver returned to take us down, I felt a pang of reluctance – I could have sat there until sunset. The outing ended up costing a bit more than bus fare alone, but compared to an organized tour (which can run around 5,000 KZT per person for Big Almaty Lake), our DIY approach still saved money.
More importantly, it gave me another once-in-a-lifetime experience. As we bounced back down the mountain road, dusty and tired, I realized Kazakhstan was teaching me a travel lesson: it’s okay to spend a little more for the sake of adventure. Some moments – like standing at the edge of Big Almaty Lake with new friends – are worth every tenge.
Futuristic Astana (Nur-Sultan)
My final major stop was the capital city, Astana (known as Nur-Sultan from 2019 until 2022). Visiting Astana in the same week meant covering 1,200 km of distance from Almaty. I had originally budgeted an overnight train for this leg – a slower but cheaper option.
However, time was tight, and ultimately I splurged on a last-minute domestic flight. The one-way ticket set me back about $100, a significant hit to my budget, but it bought me precious time: 1.5 hours in the air versus 14+ on a train. Stepping off the plane in Astana, I immediately noticed the difference from Almaty.
Here the air was crisper, the landscape flat, and the vibe distinctly modern. Astana rose from the northern steppe barely 25 years ago and it shows – shiny new architecture, wide boulevards, and ambitious design everywhere. It felt like I had arrived in the city of the future.
In Astana, I allowed myself a bit of comfort to cushion the budget blows – I booked an affordable guesthouse room (about 10,000 KZT for a night) rather than a hostel bunk, figuring I earned a good rest. Then I set out to explore the futuristic skyline I’d heard so much about. It did not disappoint.
I found my way to Nurjol Boulevard, a pedestrian axis that cuts through the city’s showcase buildings. There, glinting in the sun, stood the monument that symbolizes Astana: the Bayterek Tower, a 105-meter tall white lattice tower crowned with a golden sphere.
The Bayterek Tower is Astana’s iconic observation tower, meant to represent the myth of a magical golden egg on the tree of life. I paid a small fee (700 KZT, about $1.50) to take the elevator up to the sphere’s observation deck.
From the top, the city unfurled below in a grand plan – wide avenues and bold buildings arranged in almost perfect symmetry. On one side, I saw the presidential palace with its sky-blue dome; on the other, the curving tent-like silhouette of Khan Shatyr.
Astana’s architecture amazed me. I wandered toward the Khan Shatyr Entertainment Center, which up close is even more impressive: a giant transparent tent made of high-tech fabric, rising 150 meters tall.
Built by renowned architect Norman Foster in a neo-futurist style, Khan Shatyr encloses an area “larger than 10 football fields” with an indoor park, shopping mall, minigolf, and even an artificial beach under its canopy.
It was surreal to be in a sandy beach area, palm trees and all, knowing that outside it was a brisk Kazakh evening! I grabbed an inexpensive dinner at the food court here (Astana’s food prices were a bit higher than Almaty, but still reasonable – my plate of plov and salad was around 3,000 KZT or $6). As dusk fell, I walked back out to see the city lights. Astana truly comes alive at night: the Bayterek Tower lit up like a golden beacon, and the flashy LED facades of downtown’s skyscrapers dancing with color.
Standing there in the Esil River district, I felt like I’d been transported into a science fiction movie. The boldness of Astana’s design – from the pyramid-shaped Palace of Peace and Reconciliation to the glowing sphere of the EXPO 2017 Museum – is unforgettable.
And yet, despite the ultra-modern trappings, I encountered warmth here too: university students struck up a chat with me near a fountain, eager to practice English and share recommendations for their favorite cheap eats.
Following their tip, I tried beshbarmak (the national dish of noodles with horse meat) at a local café for lunch the next day – a hearty portion for under $8. That meal doubled as a cultural experience (and a test of my adventurous palate), and I left with both a full stomach and a deeper appreciation of Kazakh hospitality, as the owner insisted I try a cup of kumis on the house.
Astana ended up being a highlight of my trip and well worth the extra cost to get there. Yes, I spent more than planned on transportation – but witnessing Kazakhstan’s capital transform itself in real time, and seeing world-class architecture on the steppe, was something I couldn’t have missed. It’s a city that tells a story of a country striding boldly into the future, and I felt lucky to witness it firsthand.
Worth Every Tenge
As my week in Kazakhstan drew to a close, I tallied up my expenses on the long flight home. Indeed, I had overshot my budget – by roughly 30%. Those last-minute flights, guided tours, and entry fees added up more than expected. But looking back, I wouldn’t change a thing.
Travel isn’t just about the money spent; it’s about the value gained.
Yes, I blew past my planned expenses on things like extra transport and tours. But each “unexpected” cost unlocked a unique memory: a canyon sunset, a mountain vista, a new friendship.
In practical terms, Kazakhstan is still a very affordable destination – many attractions cost only a few dollars or less, and local food and lodging are budget-friendly. My splurges were on experiences rather than luxury, and I have no regrets about that. I
f I had stubbornly pinched pennies, I might have missed out on Charyn Canyon or skipped Astana’s wonders to save on a flight. Instead, I learned that sometimes travel magic happens when you say “yes” – even if it costs a bit more.
In the end, my Kazakhstan trip cost more than I planned, but it was absolutely worth it. I came home not with lots of souvenirs (my backpack and wallet were nearly empty), but with something far more valuable: a heart full of unforgettable experiences and the knowledge that pushing beyond my budget comfort zone led to incredible rewards.