Algeria

IMPORTANT NOTE: This article is part of a 12-chapter series on my trip to Africa: Algeria was the tenth country of twelve African nations I visited in December of 2016. It’s best to read the chapters in order, as they build on one another. To see countries number one through nine, please go HERE. It’s best to read the stories/countries in order.

Algiers by Dawn
The airplane gods must’ve been smiling on me, because somehow, against all logic or reason, I found myself seated in first class on the overnight haul from Nouakchott to Algiers. When I saw “Seat 2A” on my ticket, I didn’t dare get my hopes up. Figured it was a glitch, like the time Spirit tried to sell me ‘priority’ seating. But no—40 minutes later, I’m reclined in a big, cushy, cloud-like seat, nodding off in first class luxury. Maybe coach was packed, maybe my devilish charm did the trick. Either way, Air Algerie—this one’s for you. Big chair, big win.

I landed in Algiers at the crack of dawn, groggy but ready, where my guide, Omar, greeted me at the airport. All was well until we pulled up to my hotel—only to find the place boarded up for renovations. Just what you want after a long flight. And of course, I had a reservation. Thanks a lot, hotels.com. (By the way, if you want to know why you should never use sites like that, read my rant on it HERE. Always book direct—lesson learned. Again.)

But Omar? This guy had connections. Twenty minutes later, thanks to his local wizardry, I was checked into the ABC Hotel, a far better spot, cheaper too. Crisis averted. Sometimes, it’s all about who you know.

After a much-needed nap, I peeled myself out of bed just in time to meet Omar for lunch and a dive into Algiers. First on the menu? Rabbit. Yeah, rabbit. Never had it before, but damn—it was good. Braised with olives, served alongside rice, and the bread… oh man, the bread. Hot, straight out of the oven, with this eggplant dip I could’ve sworn was hummus. Omar swore up and down it wasn’t, but whatever it was, paired with peppers and olive oil, it hit the spot.

We had a perfect table by the window, French colonial architecture looming over the streets below, and Omar giving me the crash course on Algerian history. Wrapped it up with fresh dates and mint tea—the ideal, unhurried ending to a real-deal Algerian meal. Doesn’t get much better than that.

Let me pause for a second and talk about how at ease I found myself in Algiers—and how fast that happened. I’ll admit, growing up in America, I had some pretty ugly misconceptions about Algeria. Most of what I knew was spoon-fed by the evening news: terrorism, terror camps, extremist this, extremist that. To be honest, Algeria was one of those places that had me a little freaked out. Would I get kidnapped? Spit on for being American? Would I even be able to walk the streets without looking over my shoulder? That’s the picture I had in my head—embarrassing, really. But man, was I wrong.

I’m thrilled to say that those fears vanished—rapidly, in fact. Every minute I spent in Algiers, they unraveled, faster than I could’ve imagined. Algeria was the only country on this entire trip—out of twelve—where the immigration officer actually welcomed me to his country. I didn’t see that coming. By the time Omar and I drained the last of our mint tea, I was smiling, laughing, and genuinely feeling good—happy, even—to be in Algeria. It’s almost laughable now, thinking about those dark, twisted visions I had, when in reality, Algeria turned out to be one of the most stunning places I’ve ever set foot in, with some of the warmest, most welcoming people I’ve met anywhere.

After lunch, it was time to hit the streets. We didn’t have much daylight left, but as the sun dipped low, we wandered through the city, weaving between these incredible 19th-century buildings, past bustling sidewalk cafés, and down the endless staircases that seem to snake through Algiers like veins. The city’s perched on these steep hills, towering above the Mediterranean, and the way the architecture merges with the landscape is nothing short of breathtaking.

It didn’t take long to realize Algiers is one of those places where getting lost would be half the fun. Everywhere you look—left, right, up, down—there’s something waiting to be discovered. It’s a city begging you to explore.

Omar? This guy knew everyone. We couldn’t walk ten minutes without someone stopping him for a handshake, a hug, or a quick chat. And here’s the thing—they were just as kind to me. Total strangers, genuinely happy to meet me, like I was some long-lost cousin. Apparently, I can pass for an Algerian—at least until I open my mouth. Omar’s friends would jump right into conversation, rapid-fire Arabic, and I’d just smile and nod along, trying to keep up. It wasn’t until Omar let them in on the secret—that I was an American, completely clueless—that we’d all have a good laugh.

We Got to Pray Just to Make It Today
What happened next? I didn’t see it coming. Omar, a devout Muslim like my last guide in Mauritania, had a different approach. My previous guide would quietly excuse himself to head to the mosque when it was time for prayer. Omar? He invited me to join him. I was floored—honored, flattered, nervous, and confused all at once. Aren’t non-Muslims forbidden from entering mosques? I don’t follow the faith, and I certainly didn’t know how to pray Islam-style. But at the same time, I didn’t want to be rude or pass up the chance for such a unique experience. I mean, how often does a tourist get invited to join in prayer at a mosque? So, with my heart pounding, I accepted.

Before I knew it, we were slipping our shoes into plastic bags and kneeling down on the carpet alongside hundreds of others. Omar leaned over and whispered, “Just follow what I do.” I was terrified. What if I screwed up? What if they “discovered” I wasn’t one of them? Would they turn on me, run me out of the mosque—or worse, out of the city—for being a fraud? To top it off, just as we were about to start, an old man wedged himself right between Omar and me. Now I couldn’t even sneak a whisper to Omar for instructions. It was like a scene straight out of a John Candy movie. But somehow, I got through it. Up, down, up, down—forehead on the carpet, ass in the air, and repeat. It felt oddly familiar, like the ritual repetition of a Catholic service, except we were grounded, literally.

Ten minutes later we were on our way and I breathed a sigh of relief. Even though it was awkward for me, it was something truly unique that I was glad I got to experience. And did I feel like a traitor to Jesus and my Christian faith for doing this? I didn’t. It reminded me of the time I bowed in front of the statues of Kim-Il Sung and Kim Jong-Un in North Korea. There’s a big difference between “body movements” and actual prayer. You can do all the up and down, standing and sitting, kneeling and bowing, until you’re blue in the face. But prayer is in the heart and soul; something you feel and believe from deep within. I may have physically made the prayer movements, but that didn’t change what was in my heart. It was very kind of Omar to invite me to pray with him, and I took it as the ultimate compliment and display of trust.

Statutory Crêpe
Okay, now I needed a drink…but no drinks in Muslim countries! At least, not easily obtained drinks—so we had the next best thing—sweets. Omar took to me to his friend’s crêpe shop: Crêpa. I started looking at the menu trying to decide what kind of crêpe to order, when the owner, Mohammed, simply told us to take a seat and he’d worry about the rest. What happened next was magic: simply the best crêpe I’d had in my life…ever! It was so good that it made my “Best Of” section on this website; it was that good!

Next, it was up the hill to see the Memorial du Martyr , a 300 foot high monument commemorating the Algerian war for independence. It’s built in the shape of three standing palm leaves which shelter the “Eternal Flame” beneath. At the edge of each palm leaf stands a statue of a soldier, each representing a stage of Algeria’s struggle. Underneath the monument, we paid a visit to the Museum of El Mujahid, which was all about Algeria’s independence, and displayed all of the atrocities those nasty French subjected the Algerians to back in the day. Pretty gruesome stuff but a great reminder of what an awful thing war is. It blows my mind that in 2017 war is still a thing. When will we learn?

I was full, exhausted and my brain hurt from learning so much in such a short a time. Omar dropped me off at the hotel and I passed out, recharging for the next day’s activities. We had a lot to do and just a short time to do it in.

Rock the Casbah
The next morning we were at it by nine, heading over to walk The Casbah. What history! Walking through this ancient neighborhood was surreal. There were so many twists and turns and tunnels. Old crumbling buildings were propped up with boards to keep them from falling down. Doors were tiny and hand-crafted from wood with bronze hinges and knockers. Kids played ball on the few flat surfaces that existed–the lots where buildings had crumbled and been cleared away. The entire walk was just surreal as Omar navigated us through what seemed like never-ending labyrinth, with new surprises around every corner.

The Casbah was inhabited from the 6th century BC when a Phoenician trading post was established there, but mostly built between the 16^th and 18^th centuries during a period of allegiance to the Ottoman sultan.  The city’s wealth came from piracy and from its position at the trailhead of the trans-Saharan caravans.

Today nearly 50,000 people reside in The Casbah. The ancient structures still standing include traditional houses, palaces, hammams, mosques and various souks, all built on very hilly and uneven site.

Omar turned out to be not just a great guide, but a fantastic teacher, and even friend. I could tell, immediately, that he was always looking out for me. Between helping me get across the street without getting hit by speeding taxis, and giving me cultural info, tips and dos and don’ts; I felt at ease knowing he had my back, wherever we went and whatever we did. Even when I was off in La La Land, marveling at some picturesque structure or some tremendous piece of art, Omar was always ensuring I was safe.

And man, did I learn. Omar was full of endless info about his city and country, its history, culture and geography. I did my best to soak in everything; though my brain was a sponge, it could only hold so much at once. Some of the most interesting things I learned were some of the country’s cultural aspects. For example, Omar mentioned how sensitive some folks could be in Algeria about having their picture taken, or even being in the background when photos are taken. This especially applied to females. I’d have to take photos–even innocent touristy pics of buildings, etc.–with care.

We spent a good hour or two cruising the Casbah; I certainly got my steps in for the day. Then we rode a funicular up the hill for a stunning view of Algiers, including the park where the original black and white Tarzan movie was filmed. Who knew it was filmed in Algeria, crazy, right?

Next, we took a drive to see the stunning Notre Dame d’Afrique (Our Lady of Africa), a beautiful Roman Catholic basilica perched upon a cliff, overlooking the sea. Tourists milled about and seagulls patrolled the air. We even got to pop in for a look. Seeing such a grand Christian church in a Muslim country really took me by surprise.

My flight would depart soon, so we headed towards the airport, squeezing in three more stops before wrapping up the tour. We stopped by a little joint called Timimoun for mint tea and I got a kick out of watching the owner play GTA 5 on Playstation. After tea and a stop at a mosque for a morning prayer session, I was invited to Omar’s uncle’s farm on the outskirts of town to pick some fresh oranges; they were great–we ate ’em right off the tree–and it was neat to explore the property.

We were quickly running out of time, but luckily were able to squeeze in a final bite in a suburb known as Les Eucalyptus. Lamb skewers, french bread and soup were the perfect nourishments to hold me over until my next destination.

After stuffing ourselves silly, Omar dropped me off at the airport, we said our goodbyes and I was off to the next stop.

I can say that of the twelve African countries I visited, Algeria was absolutely the most beautiful, and the most surprising. Its endless beauty and history competes with more popular tourist destinations like Rome, Paris, Istanbul, etc. Why more tourists don’t head to Algiers I don’t know. Actually, I have an idea: getting my visa to visit Algeria wasn’t easy and I certainly haven’t seen any “Visit Algeria” commercials on TV. But for those lucky enough to include Algiers on their itinerary and have such a guide like Omar, well, they’re are in for a rare treat.

I found it amazing that 36 hours ago just the name “Algeria” concerned me. Now, I was wishing I could stay for weeks; explore more cities, meet more people, eat more food. Algeria is a jewel that I feel so fortunate to have experienced it. While my visit was short, it was so very rich.

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If you go:

Tour guide: Omar at FancYellow.

Hotel: ABC Hotel

This entry was posted in Africa