The Black Canyon & the Tuzbair Solonchak salt flat, Kyzylsai State Natural Park
mangystau, kazakhstan chapter seven Day 5Asia’s alarm goes off at 0800. It’s become windy outside and now and again it blows open the flap covering the door to the yurt. I’ve been awake for a little, but hadn’t gotten out of bed.
I dress and get ready for breakfast. Outside, it’s clear, the skies unbroken by clouds. I follow Asia and Rustam to the main building and fill my plate with food from the buffet.
Afterwards I stop to chat with Gulara, who runs the homestay. She sells shark teeth cast in resin from a small shop in a corner of the dining room. In the past, this entire area had been on the ocean floor, which accounts for the limestone rocks and the seashells that can be found in abundance in certain parts of Mangystau. She asks me if I’d be willing to film a video for her talking about her homestay to post on Instagram. I’m happy to oblige.
We are packed and back on the road shortly after breakfast, waving goodbye to the staff and the other groups who have called the lodge home for the night. Rustam and Asia know the guides, are friends with the owners, and we’re treated to an enthusiastic send-off.
We stop for gas in Shetpe, the small towns and gas stations now become familiar, and I trace the yellow natural gas pipelines through the streets whenever I can. While Rustam fills the car, I take a walk. They’re building sidewalks in town and I cross the street to get a better view of a train hauling cargo parked on the tracks.
Nearing the edge of town we stop at a market. I walk the aisles to see what brands are stocked on the shelves. I love walking into grocery stores in various parts of the world to look at the different ways in which items are packaged and displayed. This store is open and airy and well-stocked. In the freezer aisle I spot packages of lagman, the noodles I had had last night for dinner. Rustam had told me that all stores will stock them. He picks up a jar of pickles and we head back to the car.
As we leave town we follow the train tracks I had seen before. Soon our paths cross and we stop to let a passenger train pass. I ask where it’s headed. Almaty, Asia tells me, a three-to-four-day trip.
Rustam turns from main road down another dirt path. He tells me we’re headed to a bonus stop and parks the car just outside the Black Canyon. He tells me it’s not on the schedule, but if I am being honest, I don’t actually now what the schedule is, nor do I remember what is and is not included. I had booked the trip months ago and since meeting Asia and Rustam have decided to go with the flow.
I put my shoes on and Rustam leads me inside, following a shallow stream that disappears into the ground where we start.. Asia gathers herself and follows slowly behind.
When we near the end of the canyon we stop by a small waterfall feeding the stream. Rustam crouches down to take videos for their instagram page and gives me 30 minutes to explore. I start to walk to the end of the canyon and he stops me. Up, he says, pointing to a steep path that climbs at what seems like a 40° angle up out of the canyon.
The rock splinters into sharp shards and I’m careful to pick my way up the path. I wish I had brought gloves.
From the top there are views over the steppes and back down into the canyon. I follow the canyon’s edge as I walk back in the direction of the car. I can see Asia down below following our footsteps.
By the time I am back at the car a few others have parked behind us. A large family heads into the canyon; another has set up tents just outside and is prepping for lunch. A man climbs a gentle slope on the opposite side of the canyon to reach the top.
I meet Asia and Rustam back at the car and we continue driving down a dirt road. At one point Rustam stops the car and alights. He tells me we can stay in the car. He’s doing some recon for a possible future camping spot. He crosses the plain towards the mountains and comes back shortly. He appears noncommittal.
We drive on, stopping to ask directions now and again. There’s a canyon that’s recently become popular and he wants to check it out; he’s never been.
As we near the canyon we see more cars and ask more directions. A family camps by the side of the road and I wonder if their sedan is stuck. The road is rough and we’re bounced around as we continue on.
The canyon is packed with people. Cars and camps fill the hillside and the path into the canyon is lined with picnic blankets. Smoke rises from various fires grilling meats and I am impressed with the amount of food spread out in front of of some of the picnickers. One group cools their bottles of soda in the river.
Rustam doesn’t stray far from the car, walking ahead and quickly turning back. Five minutes and we go.
He leaves Asia and I to follow the stream into the canyon. We walk halfway in and see the line of people climbing up to the top for the ridges on a sloping path at the end and decide to turn back. Asia tells me that Kazakh people love nature; it’s in their nomadic blood.
Rustam is unimpressed. There are far too many people for his liking. I ask him if it’s his first itme here. Yes. Last time? He laughs. Maybe yes.
We stop at Nurbayan for lunch. I order stir-fried lagman, which is delicious. I love noodles, and I’m happy to have discovered yet another noodle dish to add to my list of favorites.
After lunch Rustam picks up some plov to go. I’m excited when I see him carrying the plastic tubs out of the restaurant, eager to eat more of the food produced by the restaurant.
We follow a sealed road through the steppe before once again we turn off onto a dirt path.
Our destination is the Tuzbair Solonchak, a large salt flat surrounded by limestone cliffs. Millions of years ago it was part of the Paratethys Sea, which covered much of mainland Europe and parts of western Asia during the middle to late Cenozoic. It’s regarded as the largest inland sea in history, stretching from the region north of the Alps to the Aral Sea in Central Asia.
I fall asleep on the drive over and Rustam wakes me when we’ve reached a viewpoint over the salt flat. I open my eyes to a panoramic scene; limestone mountains and cliffs bound the salt flat on one side, a rippling lake flowing to the horizon. He points the mountains and tells me we’ll be camping at the base of them to the left. But there’s still a ways to go to get there.
He drops me off at the viewpoint and invites me to walk along the cliffs to another parking spot on a far ridge. I can see other cars parked there. I put on my shoes and grab my camera and prepare for the hike.
It’s a fantastic view and I skirt the edge to capture the views as best as I can. At one point I lower myself into a shallow gully that runs out towards the edge of the cliff to capture photographs of the nearby mountains flanked by the rocky slopes. In the rainy season I imagine the stream that flows from here, the thin waterfall that would flow from my vantage point above the salt plain to the expanding lake below.
I catch up to Asia and Rustam. They’ve chatting with a fellow guide who is carting around a group of Russian tourists. Rustam bids me hop into the car and we drive off away from the cliffs, winding around to a stop before a limestone rock formation that looks like the Sphynx of Giza from a certain angle.
I walk towards it, crossing a small gully, and climb up to its base. I circumambulating it to see it from all sides just the guides we had left at the parking lot arrive.
Their passengers unload and I watch as they pick their way towards the rock. I wander away from it to give them space and spot a turtle walking amonst the tufts of grass.
As I watch the other visitors, I see them combing the ground. I’m not sure what they’re looking for, thinking it may be turtles, but while some come by to admire and take photos of the turtle, they return to surveying th ground.
Asia solves the riddle. She tells me that this area is known as a place where you can find shark teeth. I follow her as she looks for them. She soon calls me over to point out a tooth half buried in the dirt. She digs it out and holds it out to me in the palm of her hand.
From then on I am hooked and spend the rest of our time looking for teeth. Once I know what to look for it seems they’re almost everywhere, and I collect a few before we have to get back to Rustam and the car.
At the car Rustam and one of the other guides are deep in discussion. I hear the word проблема (problema) repeated a few times. I ask Asia if there’s a problem.
No problem, she assures me. Though one of the drivers of the other group has fallen ill. Is it ok if we take two tourists in our car? Of course it is!
They put the sick driver in back of a van and Rustam climbs into the driver’s seat. Asia takes the wheel of our vehicle and we follow as he and the other guide drive back towards town. They’ve reached out to find another driver who will meet us near Bozdak village.
Asia speaks Russian to our guests. She tells me she can’t speak Kazakh. Her brothers can; their father forced them to, but he didn’t force her to. She says she’s the princess in their family.
We stop at a crossroads outside of Bozdak. They’ve called ahead for a driver who will come to meet us. Someone’s also going to come to take the sick driver back to town. There’s a small necropolis nearby and I wander over to take a look. I’m about to walk over to the bus shelter to take a photos of it when I see Rustam wave me over. We’re not going to wait any longer. The relief driver is on their way, and so we’ll be headed off to our campsite.
We follow a dirt road to Kyzylsai State Natural Park. Rustam pauses when we reach a ridge so that I can see the verdant land we’ll be passing through before dropping even lower to reach the floor of the salt flat.
Ariving at the white plains of the salt flats we follow the single road as it skirts the base of the cliffs. There’s another car ahead of us and we keep our distance as we make our way around the lake, careful not to get close to the lake’s edge for fear of getting stuck.
A phoenix-shaped cloud follows us in the skies.
We’ve arrived in the Tuzbair Solonchak and Rustam parks the car at the base of one of the white limestone peaks. The landscape is otherworldly, the rocky cliffs appearing to have folded amongst themselves creating a series of crevasses in which you could disappear.
Rustam tells me I have a few hours before dinner. I ask if he wants help setting up camp. He waves me away telling me I should go and explore.
I set off in the direction of the lake. The ground is dry and cracked at first, becoming softer as I approach. Soon the ground is covered with salt and I can hear it crunching beneath my feet.
The closer I get to the water the softer the ground and the mud starts sticking to my feet. It’s clumping my shoes, making it difficult to walk, but I’m determined to reach the water’s edge so that I can touch the lake and taste the salinity.
Reaching the water I turn to take a panoramic photo of the mountains behind me. They reflet off the water. Asia will tell me later that on a completely clear day without wind, the sunrises are amazing, with the mountains and morning light perfectly mirrored in the lake.
A few other cars are camped along the base of the cliffs, and I watch as small figures embark on the same walk I’ve done, crossing the dry flats towards the lake. We’re dwarfed by the landscape. The salt pan and lake fill my vision; the people appear as black specs against a sea of white and pale blue.
I walk back towards the cliffs to a natural arch that I had seen. A group of people camp below it and I say hello before climbing the short rocky path to sit beneath it. Other cars arrive as I sit in the saddle. I’m not sure if they’re part of the same group or belong to another. I slide down the other side and walk back to camp.
When I’m back I see a single tent has been set up. It’s unclear how we’re all to fit inside. Rustam tells me he doesn’t like camping in a tent. He and Asia will sleep in the car. She has water heating in a kettle and snacks have been laid out on a table set for dinner.
She gives me a pair of plastic bags to put on my feet for when I want to walk towards the lake in the morning. I thank her and tuck them into the tent, wishing I had had them earlier.
Dinner won’t be ready for at least an hour and Rustam encourges me to continue exploring the area. I’d seen a couple walking in the direction from whence we came and I decide to follow them.
The sun sets as I walk. The white mountains and cliffs take on a golden hue. It’s a beautiful spot and I wish we had the time and ability to drive further into the salt pan. I imagine what the conditions may be like in the morning, hoping for a mirrored lake. Now, a light wind blows, sending ripples across the surface of the water.
The sun sets behind a cliff and I watch it until it disappears. The early evening has yet to grow cold; heat radiates off the ground. The skies have become cotton-candy colored. A wisp of a phoenix still floats in the air. A shark’s tooth hangs over the horizon.
I’m late for dinner, but it’s not a problem. Rustam has reheated the plov and serves it in black plastic bowls. It’s delicious. I take seconds and consider thirds, but don’t want to completely stuff myself. We drink tea and let the night slowly surround us.
I dig out my head lamp and go walking in the dark. I wish I had brought a tripod as I try to keep my hands steady to take night shots of the sky and of our camp, having to accept a light shake on the longer exposures.
At one point I hear Asia shout out to me. the moon is rising. It starts as a red spec on the horizon before forming a complete circle as it lifts itself into the sky. I’ve never seen the moon rise from the ground like this and I stand in awe of the sight.
I no longer need my headlamp to see the spotty brush that impedes my path back to camp. I organize the tent and make ready for bed, setting an alarm so that I can get up in the middle of the night to see how the moon might light up the mountains. I’m not going to get much sleep, but it’s unimportant. I’m eagerly anticipating the moon-lit scape. 🇰🇿
2 May 2026