An Adventure Beyond the Ordinary: Angad’s Family Trip Review to Kazakhstan with Thrillophilia
Kazakhstan isn’t the kind of place that pops up in casual travel plans. It’s not Paris or Bali, wrapped in the glamour of Instagram filters. But perhaps that’s the magic—it’s unassuming, raw, and breathtakingly beautiful.
When the idea of a family trip was going around, we were sure that we wanted something different—adventure, beauty, and culture without the overwhelming crowds. And as luck would have it, my brother was already studying in Almaty. For months, he’d been singing praises of the country’s landscapes, food, and warmth.
So, we decided to give him a surprise visit. And thanks to Thrillophilia, who made sure every detail was taken care of. It turned out to be one of the best decisions we’ve ever made.
The Big Reveal
The trip began with a big surprise.
Picture this: a student casually walking to his dorm, headphones on, when his entire family pops out of nowhere yelling, “Surprise!” His face, at that very moment, was a mix of shock, confusion, and, eventually, joy.
“Wait, what? How... when did you plan this?” he stammered, hugging us all at once.
That evening, he took us to a local market, where we indulged in warm baursak (fried bread) and steaming plov. My brother tried to explain to us the intricacies of Kazakh cuisine, but we were too busy stuffing our faces to listen.
The city, with its snow-capped mountains as a backdrop, felt like it was designed to make you fall in love with it. From the busy markets to the serene parks, everything about Almaty felt alive yet peaceful. My brother played the role of a reluctant guide (he still hadn’t forgiven us for crashing his “independent life”), but he couldn’t hide his pride in showing us around his new home.
We visited the Green Bazaar, where my mom haggled like a pro for dried fruits and nuts. She even managed to charm a vendor into throwing in extra apricots for free. She was really proud of herself.
The Land Before Time
If there’s one thing Kazakhstan does exceptionally well, it’s making you feel small in the best way possible.
Charyn Canyon was our first brush with this phenomenon. As we stepped onto the rocky terrain, the vastness of the canyon stretched before us like an endless masterpiece. Its layered rock formations in hues of red and gold had earned it the nickname "The Grand Canyon of Central Asia."
My brother and I took a detour to climb a particularly challenging rock formation. Halfway through, I regretted it. “Whose brilliant idea was this?” I panted, glaring at him. “Yours,” he shot back, laughing. But when we reached the top, the view was worth every huff and puff. The canyon stretched endlessly, glowing in shades of red and gold under the afternoon sun.
We sat by the water, munching on snacks with our feet dangling in the cool water while the golden sunset cast its glow over the rocks. For a moment, everything felt still—just us and the timeless beauty of the canyon.
On the way back, we got a flat tyre in the middle of nowhere. But instead of panicking, our guide Timur turned it into a stargazing session. Wrapped in blankets, we lay on the ground, watching the Milky Way unfold above us. My mom whispered, “Sometimes, the unplanned moments are the best ones.” And she was right.
A Slice of Heaven
If I could bottle up the feeling of standing by Big Almaty Lake, I’d carry it with me forever. The turquoise waters, framed by snow-dusted peaks, looked almost unreal.
It was the kind of place that made you question reality. The water was so blue, it looked like someone had spilled a giant bucket of paint.
We spent the day hiking around the lake, snapping photos, and marvelling at how untouched it felt. A local vendor sold us freshly brewed tea, which we sipped as we sat by the lake.
My brother, who had been acting like the “local expert” all trip, shared trivia about the place, most of which we were too lazy to fact-check.
We also got a taste of local culture when Timur introduced us to kumis—fermented mare’s milk. Let’s just say it’s an acquired taste. My mom took a sip and managed a strained, “Interesting…”
Where Time Stands Still
Issyk-Kul Lake, on the other hand, had a more rugged charm. The journey there was half the fun, with winding roads that offered glimpses of towering mountains and vast open plains.
The lake itself was quieter, and somehow even more mesmerising. We found a secluded spot by the shore and set up a mini picnic. Dad taught us how to skip stones and none of us could manage to do it.
But the real magic came in the form of the people we met. A local family nearby shared their fresh bread and stories about the lake’s history. One elder said, “Issyk-Kul holds secrets in its depths. The water remembers.” It was poetic and gave the place an almost mythical charm.
As the day faded into evening, we sat by a small campfire, the lake reflecting the fiery hues of the setting sun. It was one of those rare moments when time seemed to pause, and all that mattered was the here and now.
A Journey to Remember
Thrillophilia deserves a shout-out for making the trip so seamless. From the perfect itinerary to ensuring everything ran smoothly, they let us focus on what mattered—experiencing the magic of Kazakhstan together.
As we boarded our flight back, my brother, who had started the trip as our unofficial guide, looked genuinely emotional. “I never thought you’d all come here,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “And now, I can’t imagine this place without you.”
Neither can we. Because some places don’t just make you fall in love with their landscapes—they make you fall in love with the moments you share there.
Read more: Thrillophilia Kazakhstan Reviews