Chicken kebabs for breakfast

Friday 11 May

We're now 6 hours ahead of British Summer Time. I wake early, at 5.00 am, and see that the craggy mountains, seen from our huge window, are stretching to the sky, and are just starting to catch the early morning light; slowly it soaks into the snowy peaks, making them twinkle and glisten. One or two people are about already; the road- sweeper, and someone laying out her fruit stall in the market opposite our hotel.

After another lovely hot shower (let me never take a hot shower for granted again) I make enquiries about having some washing done – without ironing it will cost 3500 tehte (pronounced ting) , which is about £14. It'll be ready tomorrow morning, Saturday.

After faffing about for a while we're ready to go off in search of breakfast. By now the pavements outside are thronging with people. We find that there are stalls in the market where you can buy bread, croissant and pastries; only one place has anywhere to sit down, and there doesn't appear to be any tea on offer. Reg wants his morning cuppa, and I won't say no either.

Finally we come across some umbrella'd tables in a scraggly green area – the first sit-down eating place we've seen. There's a man cooking kebabs on a barbeque, and it seems as if this is the extent of their menu. We order chicken kebabs – and of course, black tea. By now it's about 11 am, so this could be brunch. I feel slightly out of my comfort zone, ordering kebabs for breakfast, but actually when they come, they are really delicious – Reg orders an extra one, and more tea. This is called “adapting to one's environment.”

We go through one of the many corridors of market stalls, and Reg buys more credit for the simcard he bought on the train. A young lad comes across from another stall and puts the credit on Reg's phone for him. We decide to leave wandering through the market properly for tomorrow, as we feel we need a rest day. Reg has found out about a big park not too far away, so we make for that; on the way we stop at what looks to be a nice restaurant, with a covered terrace. I ask if they have free wifi, the waitress says yes! I'm thrilled as access to the internet is difficult here – and after the waitress tries for 20 minutes to help us connect, we realise to our disappointment that we can't connect to their wifi, for whatever reason. Still, we had a nice cup of tea.

On the way to the park, we pop into a beautiful Orthodox Christian church and a music museum we happen to come across. We eventually arrive at the park, buy icecream, and wander around enjoying the trees and the greenery, resting now and then on shaded benches. I finish yet another book on my kindle – that's nearly 6 books I've read since I've been away. I used to dream back at home of having more time to read – or, I should should say, allowing myself more time to read.

After the park it's late afternoon, and we're still looking for an internet place or a restaurant with wifi. Finally we find a Starbucks type place which has wifi. Eventually we connect to the internet but it's tediously slow. I manage to post my blogs and read a couple of emails, though everything takes painfully long to open. In the end, we use Reg's phone credit to pick up the internet – he can somehow transfer the phone internet signal to the computer. It's much quicker and less hassle, but gobbles up into his phone credit – so we'll only do this in emergencies.

Later, we return to the terraced restaurant where we had tea earlier in the day, for our evening meal. We both enjoy the food, which is more European here than in Uzbekistan. The meal, with 2 beers, 2 freshly squeezed orange juices, main meal and desert, and a pot of tea, comes to 8600 tehte – about £34. Much more expensive than in Uzbekistan but cheaper than some restaurants back home. Besides, we actually enjoyed what we ate!

My first impression of the ordinary Kazak people – border guards and taxi drivers aside – are that they are politely helpful and friendly – as in any European market town, perhaps. No-one smiles and calls out, “Hello, how are you?” as in Uzbekistan though. That rich warmth and openness, which you often find in poorer countries, is missing, at least in this large city. Almaty is much more Westernised and flouts more prosperity that the towns we came across in Uzbekistan. Perhaps this is partly because Kazakhstan is an oil-rich country.