Tim Cope

Much of my journey in Kazakhstan was about understanding the legacy of the Soviet times and finding out what remained of nomadic.

I love the Altai Mountains. Crimea, despite all the conflict, is a remarkable place historically, culturally and physically. The mountains drop down into the sea. Porpoises swim in the shallows. Horses gallop through the grass. There are huge rocks, castles, caves.

In wider spaces, people bearing historical grudges with each other were separated by the muting qualities of distance.

Had I not stepped into the saddle in the first place, entire cultures, histories, and most importantly, profound connections with people and animals whom I now counted as my friends would have otherwise passed by, invisible.

Earth was not built to serve the needs of humans.

It's hard to find a place where you're out of earshot of some kind of noise.

For the traveller, Kazakhstan offers more than just a staging post for the Silk Road, as is often perceived, and there is more than just steppe.

My three-year ride by horse from Mongolia to Hungary was the most difficult, most revealing, and interesting of any of my travels. Travelling by horse, you're far more engaged and dependent on the land and other people than by any other means.

If you want to make the most of travel to Russia, it is better to leave tight plans and preconceptions behind and just enjoy the journey.

I have brought many artifacts back with me from the steppe. My favourite is a 90-year-old Kazakh saddle decorated with silverwork in traditional motifs. It symbolises the deep relationship between man and horse on the Eurasian Steppe.

When you come out of the storms and sub-zero temperatures into a tiny yurt, there's a sense that family love and care is the most important thing in the world.

What drew me to Kazakhstan was a curiosity to learn about life in this 'middle earth' of steppe between the endless forests of Russia in the north and the world's greatest mountain chains to the south.