The First President’s Park sits on the southern edge of Almaty, where the city slopes gently toward the mountains. It was laid out in the early 2000s as a formal green space, its design built around symmetry and order. A wide central avenue runs uphill, flanked by manicured lawns and evenly spaced trees, while narrower paths branch off in precise, mirroring patterns. The park covers about seventy hectares, making it one of the largest planned landscapes in the city.
The main axis climbs steadily upward, ending at a broad staircase lined with fountains that cascade down the terraces. At the top, a colonnade frames the view—Almaty sprawls below, while the Zailiysky Alatau range rises directly opposite, its peaks dusted with snow for much of the year. In the evenings, the fountains are lit, and on weekends, music often plays, drawing crowds who come as much for the atmosphere as for the scenery.
The park is planted with over a hundred species of trees and shrubs, some rare for this region. There’s a rose garden, an oak-lined avenue, and stands of conifers, along with small ponds where ducks drift lazily. The paths are smooth and wide, making the park a favorite for runners, cyclists, and families with strollers. In winter, parts of the park become impromptu ski trails, with locals gliding along the groomed paths.
This isn’t a place for sightseeing in the traditional sense. There are no museums or monuments, no grand historical narratives—just open space, fresh air, and the quiet rhythm of daily life. The real draw is the walk itself, the gradual ascent toward the mountains, the way the city falls away behind you as you climb. It’s a half-hour of simple, unhurried movement, and for many, that’s enough.
The park is always open, with no entry fee. The fountains run from May to September, but the rest of the year, the water is turned off, leaving the terraces dry and still. There are a few small cafés inside, but they’re sparse, so bringing your own water or a snack is a good idea. From the city center, it’s about a twenty-five-minute drive, and while there’s no nearby metro station, buses run to Al-Farabi Avenue, where taxis are easy to find.
On weekends and holidays, the park can feel crowded, especially near the fountains. City events—festivals, races, public celebrations—sometimes close off sections of the paths, so it’s worth checking ahead if you’re planning a visit. But on weekday mornings, the park is almost empty. The air is crisp, the mountains sharp against the sky, and the upper terrace deserted. That’s when the place feels most like its own kind of quiet escape, a pause in the middle of the city where the only thing to do is walk, look, and breathe.
