Tale of Two Cities: Urban Exploration Through Algeria's Coastal Capitals

Let's address the elephant in the room first: Algeria isn't exactly a walk-in destination. The visa process requires patience, planning, and paperwork – lots of it. As a French citizen, I had to provide an invitation letter from an Algerian contact, hotel reservations for my entire stay, and proof of financial means. The bureaucracy is formidable, but consider it your first lesson in Algerian life: things move at their own pace here.

I spent nearly two months securing my visa, with several visits to the Algerian consulate in Houston. My advice? Start the process at least three months before your planned trip. The official tourism infrastructure remains underdeveloped, making independent travel challenging but ultimately more rewarding.

While preparing, I dove into research using my travel notebook, filling pages with Arabic phrases, historical notes, and contacts. This became invaluable during my trip, especially when internet access proved spotty. For documentation, I organized everything – from visa papers to hotel confirmations – in a waterproof document organizer that became my lifeline throughout the journey.

Algeria operates largely as a cash economy, so I arranged for euros to exchange upon arrival. Credit cards are accepted at upscale hotels in Algiers, but elsewhere, cash is king.

My journey began in Oran, Algeria's second-largest city, known locally as wahran. The moment I stepped into its streets, I understood why Albert Camus was so captivated by this place. Oran is a sensory overload – the call to prayer echoing across terracotta rooftops, the persistent Mediterranean breeze carrying scents of spices and saltwater, and architecture that tells the story of French occupation alongside Islamic artistic traditions.

I based myself in the historic Santa Cruz neighborhood, staying at a modest pension run by an elderly Algerian woman who treated me like a long-lost son. From there, I explored the city primarily on foot, beginning with the imposing Fort Santa Cruz that offers panoramic views of the entire bay. The climb is steep but rewarded with vistas that capture the essence of Oran – a patchwork of whitewashed buildings cascading toward the azure Mediterranean.

The heart of Oran beats in Place du 1er Novembre, where locals gather throughout the day. I spent hours here simply observing the rhythm of daily life, sipping thick, cardamom-infused coffee at sidewalk cafés where men played dominos with theatrical slaps of tiles against wooden tables. Nearby, the Marché de Medina Jedida (New City Market) provided a crash course in Algerian commerce – chaotic, colorful, and completely authentic.

Oran's most striking feature is its architectural contrasts. The neo-Byzantine Cathédrale du Sacré-Cœur, now repurposed as a public library, stands as a testament to the French colonial period, while just streets away, the 17th-century Mosque of Pasha reflects the city's Ottoman heritage. Walking between them feels like traversing centuries and continents in minutes.

After three days in Oran, I boarded the train to Algiers. The six-hour journey along the coastline is an attraction in itself – the tracks often running so close to the Mediterranean that sea spray mists the windows. I used this time to document my thoughts and capture the passing landscapes with my compact camera, which proved perfect for street photography throughout my trip.

Algiers – Al-Jazā'ir in Arabic – immediately presents itself as more cosmopolitan than Oran, with a palpable energy that speaks to its role as the nation's capital. The city is essentially divided between the labyrinthine Casbah – a UNESCO World Heritage site – and the French-built downtown with its wide boulevards and Haussmannian architecture.

Exploring the Casbah requires both caution and respect. This ancient citadel is a residential neighborhood where families have lived for generations, not simply a tourist attraction. I hired a local guide named Karim through my hotel, which I highly recommend for first-time visitors. The Casbah's narrow alleys and steep staircases form a mesmerizing maze where laundry flutters overhead like prayer flags, children play impromptu football matches, and ancient doors conceal stunning traditional homes with central courtyards.

Downtown Algiers presents a stark contrast with its French colonial grandeur. The Grande Poste d'Alger, with its neo-Moorish architecture, stands as the centerpiece, surrounded by café-lined boulevards that wouldn't look out of place in Paris. Here, I observed the fascinating social dynamics of modern Algeria – young professionals in Western attire alongside traditionally dressed elders, all participating in the timeless Mediterranean tradition of people-watching from café terraces.

For a deeper understanding of Algeria's complex history, I spent a morning at the National Museum of Fine Arts and the adjacent National Museum of Antiquities. The former houses an impressive collection spanning from traditional Islamic art to works by 20th-century Algerian painters who documented the struggle for independence.

To understand a culture, you must taste it. Algeria's cuisine reflects its complex history – Berber foundations layered with Arab, Ottoman, and French influences. In both cities, I made food exploration a priority, often following my nose through residential neighborhoods to find where locals actually eat.

In Oran, the seafront restaurants near the port serve the freshest catch, but prices reflect the tourist appeal. Instead, I ventured to family-run establishments in the Sidi El Houari district, where I discovered doubara – Oran's version of bean stew, heavily spiced and served with olive oil-drenched bread for sopping up the flavorful broth.

Algiers offered even more culinary diversity. The restaurant scene is more developed, with options ranging from high-end establishments in Hydra neighborhood to humble street food vendors in Bab El Oued. My most memorable meal was at a tiny place near the Casbah where I was invited to join a table of local university professors. Together we shared rechta – silky handmade noodles with chicken and chickpeas – while discussing everything from Algerian literature to the country's evolving relationship with France.

Street food proved to be both delicious and economical. Karantika (chickpea cake), bourek (savory phyllo pastries), and mtabga (Algerian pizza) sustained me through long days of exploration. For the adventurous eater, the markets offer opportunities to sample local specialties. I tracked my culinary discoveries in my travel journal, creating a flavor map of both cities that I still reference when attempting to recreate these dishes at home.

Coffee culture deserves special mention. Algerian coffee – thick, strong, and often cardamom-scented – is served in tiny cups and designed to be savored slowly. Cafés function as the social heartbeat of neighborhoods, though they remain primarily male domains. As a visitor, I was welcomed but remained aware of the gender dynamics at play in these spaces.

Algeria presents unique challenges for solo travelers, particularly in navigating social spaces where tourism infrastructure remains underdeveloped. As someone who has backpacked through much of Southeast Asia and Latin America, I found Algeria required a different approach – one centered on patience, cultural sensitivity, and genuine human connection.

Language forms the foundation of this connection. While French is widely spoken (especially in Algiers), making an effort with Arabic phrases opened doors that would have remained firmly closed otherwise. I spent evenings practicing with my language guide, focusing on colloquial Algerian expressions rather than formal Arabic.

The concept of dardasha – the art of conversation and hospitality – remains central to Algerian culture. I lost count of how many times I was invited for coffee or tea by strangers who became friends. These spontaneous encounters provided insights no guidebook could offer – from the young architect in Oran who showed me hidden Art Deco buildings from the French period to the retired professor in Algiers who gave me an impromptu lecture on Amazigh (Berber) cultural resistance.

For solo travelers, especially non-Muslims, understanding religious customs is essential. My visits coincided with Friday prayers, when many businesses close from midday until mid-afternoon. Rather than seeing this as an inconvenience, I used these hours for reflection, writing, or simply observing how the cities' rhythms shifted around prayer times.

While Algeria has made significant security improvements in recent years, common-sense precautions remain advisable. I avoided photographing government buildings or police, dressed conservatively, and kept my valuables secure in a money belt worn under clothing. More importantly, I stayed aware of neighborhood boundaries – some areas in both cities are still sensitive for foreigners to visit without local accompaniment.