Silk Road – Part III – Kazakhstan, 2022.

Part of my Kazakhstan travel stories, this journey unfolds between Almaty and the vast landscapes of Charyn Canyon — where silence, scale and nature reshape the way beauty is experienced.

First Impressions from Almaty

Twilight was settling over Almaty. From the hilltop of Kok-Tobe, the city spread below me, with the Tian Shan mountains standing in the background. A line of red lights traced what seemed to be a major avenue cutting through the evening.

I had just landed in Kazakhstan.

And I was still recovering from the tsunami of information that Uzbekistan had thrown at me — the kind that overwhelms the senses and resets your aesthetic standards.

And yet, the city beneath me was already demanding my attention.

I almost felt disloyal.
Was it even fair?

Kazakhstan, however, had its own strategy. It didn’t compete with turquoise domes or intricate madrassas. Its beauty lives elsewhere — in vast, silent landscapes where nature carved its own architecture.

Because of professional commitments, two weeks is usually the maximum time I can be away. Unfortunately, that is far from ideal for a Silk Road trilogy. So Kazakhstan ended up with fewer days than it truly deserves. But as on many other journeys, I embraced what was possible — not what I would have ideally planned.

For this short stay, Almaty became my base.

But before exploring Kazakhstan’s natural masterpieces, I stopped by a few landmarks shaped by history.

Panfilov Park is one of those places where memory and everyday life quietly coexist. Instead of a rigid military square, the monument dedicated to soldiers who fought for the country sits within a vast green park.

It is also where the Zenkov Cathedral stands.

I have to admit that Orthodox church architecture is not usually my favorite. Baroque and Gothic churches may have spoiled me, especially when it comes to painting. Their dramatic compositions and theatrical frescoes set a standard that is hard for me to forget.

Even so, Zenkov surprised me with its vivid yellow façade. Unexpectedly bold.

A visit to the local market was, of course, non-negotiable. And yes — I continued carefully avoiding the fermented mare’s and camel milk, traditional staples in Kazakhstan. Not out of fear, but out of strategy. Some experiences are known for their… digestive enthusiasm, and I preferred to stay on the safe side and keep the journey running smoothly.

Where Nature Carves Its Own Architecture

When I think about my time in Kazakhstan, the first image that comes to mind is the Charyn Canyon.

Canyons have a particular kind of appeal — something between beauty and mystery. I once traveled to a city for the sole purpose of driving the full loop around a canyon — the magnificent Gorges du Verdon. And I still dream of visiting the Grand Canyon. The only obstacle is the familiar one: time and money are finite resources, and the right opportunity has yet to align.

Lucky me, one of Kazakhstan’s most important natural attractions is precisely a canyon — located about 200 kilometers from Almaty, near the Chinese border, and often compared to the Grand Canyon.

We left early in the morning, and a few hours later the car dropped us at a scenic viewpoint.

I began to approach the edge, each step gradually revealing the depth, the shape of the slopes and finally the winding path carved through the canyon.

By then, curiosity had taken over and I was ready to explore what lay within.

Next to us, a path led down into the canyon.

Everywhere, shades of red and orange dominated the landscape. The formations, however, were strikingly varied. Nature sculpted walls, towers, and shapes that almost resembled deliberate sculptures.

I explored a famous section known as Castle’s Valley. Although the sun was shining, the air was crisp — perfect for a long walk through the canyon.

With every turn, new shapes emerged from the rock. Before long, I lost track of time and distance.

At a certain point I realized that the small group of tourists also visiting the place had fallen behind.

Now something else had entered the scene: that vastness around us was filled with silence.

Somehow it made all my senses more accurate. As if the experience had suddenly reached a level I hadn’t known was possible.

We didn’t stop until the Charyn River was right in front of us. The emerald-green water flowing quietly, a few scattered trees, and a simple bench created the perfect setting for a short rest before beginning the climb back up.

Before leaving, another look from the top.

No photograph truly does it justice.

I left without deciding which perspective moved me more — from above, or from within.

But the visit to the Charyn National Park wasn’t over yet.

Still inside it, we stopped at a few spectacular viewpoints before heading to another section that left a different kind of impression on me — the Lunar Canyon.

After the vivid reds of Castle’s Valley, the landscape here shifts to neutral tones — grey, beige, and earthy shades.

Although shaped by the same artist, nature chose a different style here. Besides the change in color palette, the formations feel more organic and less dramatic.

There is no deep rift cutting through the earth. The landscape unfolds horizontally. More than beauty, what lingers here is strangeness.

Less visited than Castle’s Valley, the isolation feels even more pronounced.

And sadly, it was time to head back to the hotel. The next day, I’d begin my journey back to Brazil.

Kazakhstan was short, but intense — and I wish I had had more time there.

Looking back, as I completed my Silk Road trilogy, I realized I had experienced the three countries in the right order.

First came the silence of the surroundings of Issyk-Kul Lake, where nomadic life is still a way of life.

Then the exuberance of Uzbekistan and its elaborate madrasas — a drastic shift in architecture, in color, even in temperature.

And finally, Kazakhstan — a place that deserved more days than I could give — yet somehow arrived exactly when I needed it, guiding me back to beauty in its most natural form.