AS I PLOT THE COURSE, EVERY TREAD IS FELT IN EARNEST.

BELOW FROM THE TOP: Ala-Too Square in Bishkek; he a r s e in Bishkek.

OPPOSITE, CLOCKWISE FROM THE TOP: Traditional yurts in the Susamir Valley; Livestock on the move to the jailoo (summer pastures); Friendly locals near Kara-Suu Lake.

alliums marching as far as the eye could see.

As soon as we touch down in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan’s capital and largest city, I smell the earth in the air. Enticing views of the foothills of the Tien Shan mountains and surrounding glaciers are visible from street level – at odds with the imposingly authoritarian statues that bestride the public squares, which make me want to run for the hills.

It was in the 1920s that Stalin, rounding up the remnants of the tsarist empire, created five Central Asian territories to add to those of the recently formed USSR. When the Soviet tide finally ebbed away again in 1991, each territory – Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan and Kyrgyzstan – emerged as a newly independent nation. Of these five ’Stans, the last, Kyrgyzstan, is considered the friendliest and the most beautiful.

Locked away among alpine peaks –the majority of its borders run along scenic mountain crests – the country has a nostalgic storybook quality, a landscape of woozinessinducing passes and plunging valleys. Its traditions are nomadic – the word Kyrgyz actually means ‘40 tribes’ – and before the arrival of the Russians in the 1870s most settlements, including Bishkek, consisted of round white yurts. Sandwiched between the Karakum and Gobi deserts of Uzbekistan and China, they are a semi-nomadic people when warm weather arrives, they disperse from the villages in which they shelter during winter and head to the summer jailoo – isolated pastures in distant peaks.

By far the best way to traverse this land is on horseback. The Kyrgyz live for horses and their culture turns on an equine almanac, with games and traditions that have been deeply embedded over thousands of years. As we clipclop through the Sary-Chelek nature reserve, translated as ‘golden hollow’, our horses frequently pause to quench their thirst in the crystal-clear waters of trickling brooks or wade knee-deep into the stony banks of one of its seven mountain lakes. The largest walnut forest in the world provides shade for a while and we encounter some friendly Kyrgyz shepherds, walking with their families to the next village where their summer yurt sits surrounded by a jailoo teeming with butterflies. It has all the biblical essence of Moses’s Promised Land.

Kyrgyz horses are a joy. They’re tough, slim-backed and strong. Our string of steeds are sturdy stallions that are predominantly good-natured and reassuringly sure-footed; necessary to scale this mountain terrain without losing a step and with just enough oomph to enjoy a decent canter through the alpine meadows. Trained by the mountain guides accompanying us, they are uniformly fit from their shepherding lives. One night, camped in front of Kara-Suu Lake, we watch our horses and guides compete with a local group of villagers in a wild game of ulak, a variation of mountain polo with ferocious rugby-style tackles. It’s an exhilarating spectator sport displaying expert horsemanship and dexterous manoeuvres to gain possession of the prize: a well tenderised goat carcass. Our team wins and we celebrate with them under the stars, dining on barbecued skewers of tasty goat.

Each morning, the backup truck – a reliably sturdy decommissioned six-wheel Afghan army vehicle – and staff drive ahead to set up ready for our arrival. It’s a well-oiled schedule that’s been refined over the years with safari-style camping in British three-man tents and a large mess tent for communal relaxation and meals. Hot water is available on request for bucket-style washing but most riders just jump in the inviting waters of the lake or river at the end of the day. And, of course, there’s a loo tent – with probably the best views in Kyrgyzstan.

Some mornings, no amount of muttered hyperbole captures the sheer and utter magnificence of what lies before us. Each turn in the valley brings a different vista and new emotional crescendo; from the dizzying ascents across Kotorma Pass to Iri-Kul’s waist-high pastures of flowering fennel that release a wafting perfume that mixes with the aromatic mountain thyme crushed underhoof as we pass. There’s a pleasing potency, too, of being this far away. Far from tarmac roads, far from electricity and far from cellphone reception. These heavenly mountains, wedged somewhere – I couldn’t point exactly –between the steppe of Mongolia and the Hindu Kush, are filling my head.

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International flights to Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan’s capital and the tour starting point, are often via Istanbul. From here it’s a daylong private coach transfer to Sary-Chelek national park.

Trips are hosted in June and September, when the flora and fauna are at their most spectacular and the weather is most clement.

TIME ZONE GMT +6

While riding, expect a hot breakfast with a different egg dish each day, a nutritious lunch packed in saddlebags to maximise riding time, and a three-course supper including delicious warming soups, freshly prepared with local ingredients.

In Bishkek, guests normally book into the locally run Asia Mountains Hotel. The rest of the trip is spent camping, safari-style, in a variety of riverand lakeside locations.

Alexandra runs scheduled riding trips in May and September, but bespoke trips can also be commissioned (alexandratolstoy.co.uk).

Pack clothes for hot weather during the day and chilly evenings in camp. Each rider also needs to take their own pillow, sleeping bag and liner, inflatable sleeping mat, riding hat, jodhpurs, riding boots and short chaps, waterproofs, headtorch, towel and water bottle.

Alexandra offers unrivalled access to this historically, culturally and geographically fascinating region. It’s a rewarding safari-type adventure, staying in remote locations in one of the most unspoilt places on the planet.