Orán and Algiers by Javier Reverte

Recently, I took a short trip to Algeria - no more than ten days - to visit the cities of Orán and Algiers. I was familiar with the latter, the capital, but not the former, whose long Spanish past is still evident in the mansions of the old neighborhood near the docks, in the nocturnal habits of its inhabitants, in the paella (almost the national dish of Orán), in the fried fish from the "pécherie" (the fishing district where the auction market is also located), and in the "andalussis" songs that persist in the voices of the new artists. In Orán, there is a bar called Sevilla, adorned with photographs and bullfighting posters on the walls, where one can enjoy spicy snails with beer or wine. The bullring still stands, with its round façade built of stone and its tall metal gates. In what used to be the ticket booths, now sealed with concrete, you can still see the markings that indicated the entrances for sun and shade. During the 1940s and 50s, before the Algerian War of Independence, many renowned bullfighters from Spain performed here. Laborers from Almería came to collect esparto grass, and grape pickers from Murcia arrived for the harvest. Even during the harvest season, a ship was loaded with prostitutes from Alicante and surrounding towns, particularly Ibis. Moreover, for centuries, Orán has been a haven for Spaniards: Moriscos fleeing from Catholic persecution, for example. It also provided refuge for many Republican soldiers, the defeated of the Civil War of '36-'39.

Algiers is very different. It is a city that, for various reasons, I have visited several times. And it always gives me the same ambivalent feeling of attraction and repulsion. Algiers is one of the most beautiful cities on both shores of the Mediterranean. Its center, built in Haussmann style, is marked by wide avenues and sturdy buildings with porticoes, balconies, and attics above. It resembles a bright Paris, with its whitewashed façades and windows, grilles, and balconies painted blue. To me, it is certainly much more beautiful than the Gallic city of Nice. There are few places that match its light, the energy of mornings when a cloudless sky dawns. As Albert Camus, an Algerian -

• who lived his childhood in the city, said, the sun of Algiers is "invincible."

And under the sky, the immense sea, which, viewed from the heights of the city, seems to transform into a true ocean of purple waters at sunset. It is said in Algeria that while Orán turns its back to the sea, Algiers faces it. That might be true. Few walks are as beautiful as the long promenade of "Front la mer," where a long row of white and blue buildings curves along the same arc as the bay.

But soon the Algiers that evokes repulsion emerges. Fish eateries where there are more cats than waiters, waiting for scraps. Trash in the streets, and often, the corpse of a rat. Laundry hanging in the sun on all the balconies. The almost constant smell of broken pipes and sewage water. And the dirty hotels, where the service still drags along all the bad habits fostered during the Algerian socialism period.

Algeria has been a country crushed by two bloody wars. The first, from 1954 to 1962, was for independence from the French. The second, the so-called "dark decade," unleashed by radical Islamic terrorist guerrillas, took place between 1991 and 2000. Algeria has bled a lot, and hatred has reigned in its cities and fields. Now it is trying to rise and embark on a period of stability and progress, the first in its young history as a free country. Today, however, it somewhat resembles Spain in the late 1950s. Perhaps it is the best time for the curious traveler to visit; but not for those seeking to go there simply as tourists.