Algeria: Outposts of Empire

Domenico Laneve, Product Manager for North Africa, travelled to Algeria to assess its potential ahead of reviving our tour programme there. At Djemila, Timgad and Tiddis he found Roman provincial life preserved on a scale unmatched elsewhere in the region – and almost no other visitors.

Like all civilisations, Algeria’s history is one of layered cultural encounters. Its indigenous peoples, the Amazigh (commonly known as Berbers – a name derived from “barbarian,” whereas “Amazigh” means “free people), still live predominantly in the south today. Phoenician traders established coastal settlements; Rome turned the region into one of its most prosperous provinces; Arab-Islamic culture then shaped its language, architecture and identity; finally, the Ottoman Empire and French colonialism added further layers.

It is the Roman legacy, however, that sets Algeria apart from other North African destinations. Cities such as Djemila, Timgad and Tiddis were thriving provincial towns built for everyday civic life. The remarkable preservation of these sites offers a vivid sense of Roman life, far from the traditional focus on Rome itself, the centre of the Empire.

Today Algeria is almost an outcast among the great North African giants of tourism – Egypt, Morocco and Tunisia – seemingly doing little to attract outside attention. Yet for me that is part of its appeal, and there are also signs that this may slowly be changing.

I began my journey in Algiers, a city visibly shaped by distinct and often irreconcilable historical layers: Berber, Roman, Ottoman, French colonial, and the new Algerian identity still taking shape. On the drive from the airport, the first striking landmark is the imposing minaret of Djamaa el Djazaïr, the tallest in the world at 265 metres. Shortly afterwards, the striking white buildings of the city appear, clinging to the hills above the harbour – ‘Alger la Blanche’, the French called it. Visible from almost every neighbourhood is the Brutalist silhouette of the Martyrs Memorial built to commemorate the Algerians who fought and died in the War of Independence against France between 1954 and 1962.

Walking through the Casbah, domestic and public spaces blur constantly: doorways open directly onto alleys, workshops lead to large family homes, rooftop cafés offer sweeping views of the harbour. The walls are layered with murals celebrating independence martyrs and modern passions – football above all. Framing the Casbah and extending into the city centre, the French colonial buildings create a curious juxtaposition with everything around them.

We stopped at a small kiosk where a young man showed us how tea is prepared in the traditional Tuareg way – pouring the infused liquid repeatedly between two teapots to create a light foam on top. The leaves need to boil at least three times, he explained; otherwise the tea is packed with tannins and unbearably bitter.

From Algiers I travelled through Algeria’s extraordinary Roman sites – among the most impressive in North Africa. Tipasa, on the Mediterranean coast, was founded by the Phoenicians and later became a flourishing Roman commercial centre, its ruins now inseparable from the shoreline that surrounds them. Djemila and Timgad, both UNESCO World Heritage sites, were established as colonies for discharged veterans of the III Augusta Legion: Djemila folded into the Kabyle mountains, Timgad laid out with extraordinary grid-like clarity on the high plateau. Together they stand as proof of what a Roman provincial city actually looked like – not an imperial capital designed to dazzle, but a working city built for its citizens. Tiddis, by contrast, is smaller and more intimate, its streets and forum emerging from the surrounding hills almost accidentally.

When I arrived in the early afternoon the only other visitors were a young Algerian family – parents and three children – enjoying a quiet picnic in the shade of the ruins. I offered to take a photograph, which they accepted warmly. In return, they pressed on us a piece of homemade mouskoutchou, the traditional citrus-infused Algerian sponge cake, the children smiling with delight at the unexpected encounter. What strikes you throughout the country is not only the scale and preservation of these sites, but the near-total absence of other visitors.

On the road to Timgad, as the landscape slowly began to shift towards the desert without quite reaching it, my guide, the lovely Mr Toufik, shared something of his own story in those wild lands. A friend of Amazigh origin had once asked him to spend time in a remote desert village teaching mathematics to children. The desert knows neither borders nor the conventions of modern societies, he reflected. Out there, boundaries dissolve – it is neither Algeria, nor Morocco, nor Libya. To its people, it is not even Africa.

I loved the changing landscapes as I travelled eastwards. Constantine is vertiginously striking: a natural fortress-city perched above gorges and cliffs, spanned by spectacular bridges. The Ahmed Bey Palace, unassuming from the outside, conceals wonderful tilework, elegant courtyards and lush gardens within.

My journey ended in Annaba, ancient Hippo Regius – once one of the great port cities of Roman Africa – forever associated with Saint Augustine, born to a Berber family in Numidia in c.354, who served as bishop here from 395 until his death in 430. Walking through the Ruins of Hippo, I looked up to see the Basilica of Saint Augustine rising above them on the hillside. It struck me as a fitting conclusion to what the country had revealed throughout: Amazigh, Roman and Christian heritage alongside its Arab-Islamic fibre, French colonial imprint, modern identity, and gracious hospitality all coexisting between the sea and the hills, within a single moment.

‘Roman Algeria: Outposts of Empire’ departs 3rd–11th May 2027, led by historian and writer Barnaby Rogerson. You can also egister interest in our November 2027 departure.