I reached Algeria at the tail end of a seven-country journey across the Middle East and North Africa. By that point, I thought I had seen everything in the Arab world. But Algeria dismantled that assumption and totally charmed my travel partner and me.
Northern Algeria is undeniably beautiful. Algiers blends Ottoman elegance, French colonial architecture, and modern North African energy. Constantine, meanwhile, is a city that seems to float. Its dramatic gorge is laced together by gravity-defying bridges that make you stop mid-crossing – not from fear, but from disbelief. It is spectacular, cinematic.
But the Sahara stole the show. To qualify for a visa on arrival, 70% of our itinerary had to be in the far south – a bureaucratic detail that turned out to be the single best decision of the entire trip.
Our first deep-Sahara revelation was Ghardaia, in the M’zab Valley, a UNESCO World Heritage site. The valley’s hilltop villages, dating back to the 11th–14th centuries, are built around faith, climate, and community. In one village, we were joyfully invited to crash a wedding – a moment that perfectly captured Algerian hospitality: enthusiastic, and welcoming.
In another village – nearly 1,000 years old – our unforgettable guide, Mhamed Ibrahim, who at 83 years old possessed more energy and spunk than most people half his age. He explained local traditions with warmth and humour, including the striking custom that married women are completely covered in public, from head to toe, including the face. In the M’zab Valley, tradition is not a museum piece; it is daily life.
Otherworldly
We then took a red eye fight (the only option in the desert) farther south to Tamanrasset, the gateway to Ahaggar National Park, where the landscape turns volcanic and otherworldly. Jagged black mountains rise from the desert like something imagined rather than formed. We trekked up Assekrem Mountain, Algeria’s third highest at 2,780 meters, to visit a small chapel at the summit. Watching the sun sink behind the peaks in near-total silence was one of those rare travel moments that permanently recalibrate your internal definition of “beautiful.”
Our stay in Tamanrasset came with Algerian police escorts – initially annoying, later mildly absurd – particularly when their vehicle broke down, turning a security operation into a communal lesson in patience, problem-solving, and desert mechanics.
The journey culminated in Djanet and Tassili National Park, which felt less like a destination and more like another planet. We camped at two different sites, each uniquely spectacular. One night was spent among sculpted sandstone formations that glowed softly under the stars in a pitch-black sky; another among dunes so vast they seemed to move while you weren’t looking.
Our lunches were just as memorable. One was at an oasis tucked between mountains, where palm trees and water appeared like a mirage that refused to disappear. Another was near prehistoric rock art – ancient figures etched into stone thousands of years ago, reminding you just how long humans have been wandering, drawing, and wondering in this exact landscape.
At one point, we climbed a massive sand dune, sinking ankle-deep with every step, to witness yet another Saharan sunset. The light shifted from gold to amber to deep red, the desert falling silent as if in reverence. It was the kind of moment that makes conversation feel unnecessary and memory feel permanent.
By the time we left Algeria, my partner and I were unanimous: we adore this country, Africa’s largest by geography. The people are welcoming, the food (especially sourdough baguettes) comforting, the landscapes humbling, and the traditions alive and unapologetic. Algeria doesn’t chase visitors – it rewards those willing to meet it on its own terms.
We went to Algeria to finish a trip. We left dreaming of our return.
Adventurer Todd Miller has explored more than 120 countries. He authored the best-seller ENRICH: Create Wealth in Time, Money, and Meaning. www.ToddMiller.asia.