Soviet Nuclear Bomb Testing Grounds of the Polygon, Kazakhstan

Exploring the Cold War Legacy: A Journey to the Polygon, Kazakhstan

In November 2023, I traveled to Northeast Kazakhstan for a week, drawn by my fascination with the Soviet era. Kazakhstan was once part of the USSR, and few places embody the Cold War’s tensions and consequences more than the Semipalatinsk Test Site, or “The Polygon”—a vast, desolate expanse where the Soviet Union developed and tested its nuclear arsenal.

This was my second visit to Kazakhstan, but this time, my focus was to explore the Polygon nuclear testing grounds and the once-secretive regions surrounding it. I wanted to understand the impact of this dark chapter in human history, where entire landscapes and countless lives were sacrificed in pursuit of weapons capable of destroying civilization.

Ironically, these very weapons of mass destruction prevented the Soviet Union and the United States from ever engaging in direct war. Instead, they fought through proxy conflicts in Vietnam, Korea, Africa, and beyond, shaping the modern world at an immense human cost.

Walking through abandoned test sites, forgotten bunkers, and irradiated landscapes, I felt the weight of a past that still lingers—a stark reminder of a world once on the brink of nuclear catastrophe.

The Polygon: The Soviet Union’s Nuclear Testing Ground

The Polygon, an 18,000-square-kilometer expanse of flat Kazakh steppe, was the primary nuclear testing site for the Soviet Union. Between 1949 and 1989, after acquiring nuclear technology—likely through espionage from the USA—the Soviets detonated 450 atomic and hydrogen bombs here, making it one of the most nuclear-contaminated places on Earth.

For decades, the region was one of the most secretive areas in the world, guarded by KGB spies. Only after the collapse of the Soviet Union did the full extent of the radiation’s devastating impact on both the land and its inhabitants become clear.

The Human Cost of Nuclear Testing

Fallout from the tests exposed thousands of people and animals to radiation, leading to elevated cancer rates, birth defects, and DNA mutations that persist today. Some villages near the site, severely affected by radiation, have even developed a subculture embracing their mutations, viewing the radiation-tainted food and water as an inescapable part of life.

Cold War Relics: Kurchatov & Abandoned Soviet Facilities

The region is still filled with Cold War-era relics, including:

• Soviet bunkers and test facilities scattered across the Polygon.
• Kurchatov, the secretive research hub where nuclear scientists lived under heavy KGB surveillance. Today, it stands as a ghost town of abandoned Soviet buildings, remnants of a time when secrecy and control dominated Soviet science.

Radiation & Safety Today

Like Chernobyl, the Polygon remains one of the world’s most contaminated places, but unlike Chernobyl—where radiation was an accidental disaster—the Polygon was deliberately exposed through nuclear testing.

Scientists continue to study the long-term effects of radiation, and while visiting the test site is considered safe with precautions, certain core areas have become off-limits due to dangerously high radiation levels. Visitors must limit exposure, avoid contact with the ground, food, water, and dust, and restrict their time in high-risk areas.

Standing in the windswept silence of the Polygon, surrounded by abandoned Soviet relics and the ghosts of nuclear detonations, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of history—a stark reminder of how close humanity once came to self-destruction.

Polygon highlighted in orange 

Kazakhstan Then & Now: My First Visit in 2012

My first trip to Kazakhstan was in May 2012, when American travelers still needed a visa, which I obtained in Washington, D.C. Fast forward over a decade later, and Kazakhstan has since eliminated visa requirements for Americans, making travel much easier.

Back then, I traveled independently, crossing the border overland by public bus from Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan, to Almaty, Kazakhstan’s former capital before the government moved it to Astana (now Nur-Sultan).

Exploring Almaty: A Contrast to Astana

I spent two days exploring Almaty on foot, visiting Soviet monuments and immersing myself in Kazakh culture. It didn’t take long to realize that Almaty and Astana feel like two completely different worlds:

• Almaty, set against the backdrop of the Tien Shan Mountains, has a mild climate, tree-lined streets, and a Soviet-era charm, making it feel more European and historic.
• Astana, by contrast, is a modern, futuristic city, purpose-built to reflect Kazakhstan’s new national identity, filled with gleaming skyscrapers, massive government buildings, and grandiose architecture.

That first journey gave me a glimpse into Kazakhstan’s Soviet past, while my 2023 visit to the Polygon exposed the darker side of that history—a stark contrast between cultural heritage and Cold War devastation.

President, Nursultan Abishuly Nazarbayev

Kazakhstan in 2012: A Nation Under Nazarbayev

During my first visit to Kazakhstan in 2012, the country was still ruled by President Nursultan Nazarbayev, a Soviet-era strongman who held power for 30 years, making him one of the world’s longest-serving dictators. His reign finally ended in 2022, when widespread protests and revolution—driven by economic inequality and the failure to distribute wealth from Kazakhstan’s vast oil, gas, and mining resources—led to his downfall.

Almaty: A City of Contrasts

At the time, murals of Nazarbayev were everywhere, a constant reminder of his iron grip on power. Yet, as I explored Almaty, it was impossible to ignore the stark contrast between wealth and poverty—luxury cars and upscale neighborhoods coexisted with struggling communities, exposing the growing economic divide that would ultimately fuel the uprising a decade later.

Stretch Limo Humvee

TV Tower from Soviet era

Kazakh wedding at a World War II Soviet Monument, one of the coolest monuments I have ever seen

Astana: The Gateway to the Polygon

For my most recent trip to the Polygon, I first flew into Astana with my friends Richard, Wes, and Frank. As the closest major city to the Polygon, Astana served as our gateway to Kazakhstan’s Cold War legacy.

Originally renamed Nur-Sultan in honor of longtime ruler Nazarbayev, the city reverted to Astana after his overthrow in 2022. It is a strikingly ultramodern capital, known for its extravagant, futuristic architecture, seemingly rising out of nowhere on the frozen Kazakh steppe.

Exploring the Futuristic Capital

While ultramodern cities don’t usually captivate me, I found Astana’s sheer grandeur fascinating. My friends and I walked for miles, exploring its massive, high-tech buildings and wide boulevards.

The Best Science Museum I’ve Ever Seen

The highlight of our time in Astana was visiting its spectacular science museum, housed inside a giant glass sphere that towers hundreds of feet into the sky.

Inside, we explored cutting-edge exhibits on energy, space, and the universe, all presented through immersive, high-tech displays. It was, without question, the finest science museum I have ever visited—a true technological wonder in the middle of Kazakhstan’s vast and desolate landscape.

Astana Monuments

Astana Monuments

Astana Bridge

Largest mosque in Astana

Pavilion and Science Museum

Pavilion and Science Museum

Luxury in the Heart of Astana: The St. Regis Experience

Richard generously booked us all rooms at the five-star St. Regis hotel, a riverfront gem in Astana. The hotel exuded luxury and elegance, offering a level of comfort that made it tempting to stay in rather than explore the city.

With its sumptuous rooms, impeccable service, and world-class amenities, the St. Regis was a stark contrast to the harsh, frozen steppe outside. While I’m usually eager to hit the streets, I’ll admit—it was difficult to leave the sheer comfort of this incredible hotel.

My Hotel-St Regis with a proud Portrait of a Kazakh Horse

Journey to the Polygon: Driving Into the Heart of the Soviet Nuclear Test Site

To reach the Polygon, I hired a four-wheel-drive vehicle, a driver, and a guide. From Astana, we drove all day across the vast, windswept steppe to Semipalatinsk. The landscape was bleak and frozen, with temperatures dropping to 10°F, eerily reminiscent of western North Dakota or eastern Montana in winter—endless plains with barely a soul in sight.

Entering the Polygon: A Place Few Seem to Monitor

Unlike other restricted sites, no official permits were required in advance—just a simple heads-up that we were coming. But once inside, it became clear that no one was really monitoring the area.

While certain core regions remain off-limits due to dangerously high radiation, and there are claims of drones and local officials patrolling the area, the reality was different. We saw locals fishing in a radioactive lake and mining trucks freely entering and exiting the Polygon, raising the question—does anyone actually enforce these restrictions?

From what I observed, it seemed that if you wanted to explore deep into the most dangerous parts of the Polygon, no one would be there to stop you.

Endless highway across the steppe

Monuments marking entrance to various villages in eastern kazakhstan

Kazakhstan’s Economy: A Landscape Shaped by Industry

Kazakhstan’s economy is heavily reliant on mining, oil, gas, and coal, and the impact of these industries is visible across the country. Even in remote areas, it’s common to see massive factories churning out tons of pollution, filling the sky with thick smoke.

To sustain the labor force for these industries, entire villages of Soviet-style apartment blocks have been built in rural towns—isolated communities dedicated solely to industrial production. The contrast between the stark, windswept steppe and these industrial outposts highlights Kazakhstan’s deep ties to resource extraction, a legacy that continues to shape the nation’s economy and environment.

Typical factory in countryside

Long Roads Through the Steppe: A Glimpse into Rural Kazakhstan

Driving across the endless highways of the Kazakh steppe was long and grueling, with few signs of civilization beyond the occasional roadside café. These mom-and-pop eateries served as rest stops for travelers and truck drivers, many of whom were transporting goods to Russia.

Foreigners are rare in this remote region, and the locals were curious, though language barriers made communication limited. Still, their friendly glances and quiet hospitality added to the experience, offering a glimpse into daily life in the heart of Kazakhstan’s vast and rugged interior.

Roadside Cafe

Soviet Relics: A Park Full of Lenin Statues

I can never resist photographing a good Soviet monument, and in this town, I found a goldmine—a park filled with Lenin statues.

Scattered throughout the area, these larger-than-life relics of the USSR stood as reminders of a bygone era, their presence still looming over Kazakhstan’s post-Soviet landscape. Whether out of historical reverence or simple neglect, they remained untouched, frozen in time—perfect for a Soviet nostalgia snapshot.

Me and Lenin

Soviet era statue

Semipalatinsk: A City Built on Exile and Nuclear Fallout

We drove all the way to Semipalatinsk, the largest city in the region, originally established as a Russian trading post along the only river that cuts through this vast part of Kazakhstan. Over time, the city became a place of exile, where prisoners and deported citizens were sent as punishment for political dissent.

A Night in a Soviet-Era Hotel & Exploring the City

For our stay, we checked into a small Soviet-era hotel, its windows overlooking a factory that, in an odd twist, doubled as a nightclub called the Mafia Club.

During our time in Semipalatinsk, we:

• Explored local eateries, getting a taste of authentic Kazakh cuisine.
• Visited a century-old abandoned brick building, once a school for girls, now left to decay.
• Paid tribute at monuments honoring victims of nuclear fallout, a somber reminder of the human cost of Soviet nuclear testing that devastated this region for decades.

Despite its dark history, Semipalatinsk’s past lingers everywhere, making it a fascinating yet haunting place to explore.

Exploring an old ruined brick building 

Factory/nightclub

Monument to victims of radiation 

Monument to victims of radiation 

Into the Heart of the Polygon: A Land Scarred by Radiation

The next day, we drove 100 miles deeper into the vast expanse of the Polygon, following flat dirt roads that seemed to stretch endlessly into untouched grasslands. But in reality, the land was far from untouched—it bore the invisible scar of radiation, with radiation levels fluctuating based on proximity to former nuclear detonation sites.

Life Amidst the Fallout

Scattered throughout the radioactive landscape, we encountered:

• Small, impoverished villages with wooden, decrepit cottages, where locals continue to raise horses and cattle despite the contaminated land.
• Large coal mining trucks, hauling resources from open-pit mines, a stark contrast to the abandoned test sites nearby.

The harshness of life in the Polygon was striking—a land forever altered, yet still inhabited, with people and industries carrying on despite the invisible dangers that linger beneath the surface.

Road into Polygon 

Village in Polygon 

Grazing horses in radiactive grasslands 

A Radioactive Lake & A Dystopian Landscape

As we approached a lake formed by a massive nuclear detonation, radiation levels spiked dangerously high. To protect ourselves, we donned suits and masks, ensuring that radioactive dust didn’t cling to our clothing or skin. The scene was eerily dystopian—a barren wasteland shaped by nuclear fire, yet hauntingly beautiful in its quiet desolation.

Despite our extreme caution, we were shocked to see local villagers fishing in the lake, completely unconcerned about radiation exposure. It was a surreal and sobering reminder of how, for some, survival takes precedence over unseen dangers—even in one of the most contaminated places on Earth.

Frank in his suit 

In our hazmat suits and masks to keep dust laden with radiation off of ourselves and from being inhaled

Lake formed by nuclear explosion 

Me at Lake formed by nuclear explosion 

Polygon

Soviet Relics in the Polygon: A Vanishing Monument to Nuclear Testing

Near the nuclear testing grounds, we came across a massive concrete structure—possibly an antenna or elevator shaft—once used by Soviet military officials to assist in detonating nuclear bombs.

Like much of the Polygon’s Cold War relics, it had been stripped of most of its metal, likely taken by scrap metal recyclers eager to cash in on the high prices of salvaged materials.

The emptiness of the site, with only fragments of its past remaining, served as yet another reminder of how history is slowly being dismantled, leaving behind only fading scars of one of the world’s most secretive nuclear programs.

Concrete embedded antenna/elevator shaft used to detonate nukes 

Concrete embedded antenna/elevator shaft used to detonate nukes 

Exploring a Soviet Nuclear Bunker in the Polygon

We also stopped at an underground concrete bunker, once used by Soviet military officials to detonate nuclear bombs. While most of the tunnels had long since caved in, a vast underground chamber remained accessible for exploration.

A Chilling Discovery After the USSR’s Collapse

I had read that in 1991, after the fall of the Soviet Union, Kazakh and American officials inspected the abandoned test sites—only to discover that fission materials had been looted from these bunkers.

The fact that weapons-grade nuclear materials had been left unguarded in these underground facilities, vulnerable to theft, was a chilling reminder of the chaos that followed the Soviet collapse—and how easily history could have taken an even darker turn.

Concrete bunker

Concrete bunker

Concrete bunker

Concrete bunker

Kurchatov: The Soviet Nuclear Science Hub

We drove to Kurchatov, a small, secretive town originally built to house Soviet nuclear scientists involved in testing at the Polygon. Once a closed city, Kurchatov remains a blend of past and present, with:

• Abandoned KGB buildings, eerie remnants of the Cold War era, where Soviet intelligence once closely monitored scientists and military operations.
• Modern apartment complexes, home to current researchers who still conduct atomic studies in the region today.

I found Kurchatov fascinating—a place where Soviet history lingers in every crumbling structure, yet life continues. It felt smaller and more relaxed than Semipalatinsk, and I could have easily spent days exploring its ghostly ruins and lingering Cold War atmosphere.

Abandoned KGB Building

Abandoned KGB Building

Our hotel which was and still is used by the world’s top nuclear physicists 

My hotel room, which was and still is used by the world’s top nuclear physicists 

Frank at the restaraunt we had dinner at

A Change of Plans: Ice Storm & a Sleeper Train to Astana

Unfortunately, we had to cut our trip short, canceling our visit to the abandoned Chagan Soviet air base due to a sudden ice storm. Officials closed all roads to Astana, citing extreme driving risks, and with more freezing rain expected, we had no choice but to return early to ensure we made our flight.

A Surprisingly Comfortable Journey

Instead of enduring a hazardous drive, we opted for the overnight sleeper train to Astana—a decision that turned out to be far more comfortable. The eight-hour journey took us directly into the capital, right on schedule, without any complications.

With an entire extra day in Astana, we took the opportunity to casually explore the city—a relaxed ending to an otherwise intense and unforgettable journey through Kazakhstan’s Cold War past.

My sleeper cabin, which I shared with Frank and two Kazakhs including one policewoman with her uniform hanging over her bed.

Night train 

Beating the Ice Storm & Heading Home

We managed to outrun the ice storm, arriving safely in Astana just as blizzard-like conditions set in. Seeking refuge from the freezing weather, we found comfort in our Hilton hotel room, watching the snow blanket the city in a whiteout.

That night, against all odds, our Turkish Airlines flight miraculously arrived and departed on time, taking us back to Istanbul and onward home—marking the end of an unforgettable journey through Kazakhstan’s Cold War legacy.