One of the best things about Almaty is how close it is to the mountains, and how easy it is to get there. Bus number 12 leaves from opposite the Hotel Kazakhstan – if in doubt, just follow the crowds with skis and snowboards – you give your 20p to the conductor, and twenty-five minutes later you’re in the Tien Shan mountains. Another twenty minutes and you can be whizzing down the mountainside. It’s a completely different world: American diplomats, international oil executives, rich Russian tourists, and the generally mega wealthy, trot around in goggles and ski boots, sitting at expensive European cafes and getting sunburnt.

Away from all this the mountains are yours. One day we joined a group of Kazakh girls walking up to a frozen dam; they were feisty geology students, training to be the next generation of energy executives – some of them were the first ever female students in their fields. We stopped to look at a squirrel, a fluffy red and grey Kazakh squirrel with great tufty ears. Coca cola and boiled eggs came out, and the girls all burst into something between a traditional Kazakh song and a rap.

Up in the mountains, the sky was the most intense blue, almost dark grey, against the sparkling and blinding snow. The birch forests loked like something from a fairytale, branches heavy with snow and icicles, while further up fir trees huddled close together. Each day the sun grew stronger and our feet sank deeper and deeper into the snow. We passed a man carrying his skis up the mountain, and a surprisingly large number of bare-chested men walking in crampons – fewer clothes seemed to be the way to go. The weather was pure and intense, and the power of the sun felt stronger than in any other place I have been.

Going down, the tracks often turned into slides and we tobogganed down on our coats where we could. It was so much fun!! We finished our longest walk in the public baths in Almaty, where we circled between the Russian banya, Finnish sauna and Turkish steamroom. It got rather hot, and we probably should have followed the dress code of the venik woman, who wore a jumper and balaclava while she beat customers with branches of birch. But by bedtime I felt completely serene and strangely energised.