A Journey Through Algeria’s Fauna and Flora Stamps

Algeria is home to the Tassili n'Ajjer National Park, known for its unique rock art and desert landscapes.

By the Stamp Collector’s Backpack

Hello, I am the Stamp Collector’s Backpack. Climb aboard, because today we are heading to Algeria on our Stamp Safari. From the hot sands of the Sahara Desert to the cool northern mountains and the sunny Mediterranean coast, this country is rich in wildlife and plants.

One sunny morning, I opened my old stamp album and found a page labelled “Algeria – Flora & Fauna”. The stamps seemed to whisper to me, “Come and see our stories.” So I leaned closer and the adventure began.

First, I landed in 1944, where two proud Gallic cocks stood tall on 1 franc and 2 franc stamps. They reminded me that back then, Algeria was still linked to France, and the rooster was France’s famous symbol.

A few pages later, I stepped into 1950 and found bunches of grapes on a bright 20 franc stamp. The warm Mediterranean sun shone on the vineyards, and the air smelled sweet.

Then came 1957, when a little fennec fox with huge ears peeped out from behind a sand dune. This 12f + 3f stamp was not just pretty — it helped raise money for the Red Cross to care for people in need. The fennec fox is now Algeria’s national animal, perfectly adapted to desert life.

Suddenly, my album pages turned into sandstone cliffs, and I was in the Tassili n’Ajjer mountains in 1967. The rock walls were covered in ancient art:

A cow grazing, painted thousands of years ago.
Archers with bows, ready for the hunt.
A graceful antelope leaping across the stone.
And a fierce warrior, a reminder of long-ago times when people lived in harmony with nature.

In 1978, I saw a crab apple tree growing in cool mountain air, its fruit small and tart. Not originally from Algeria, it still found a home here among the oak and Aleppo pine trees of the north.

Next, I flew to a wetland in 1987 and saw elegant greater flamingos, their pink feathers glowing in the sunlight as they stood in shallow water. These wetlands are also home to Algeria’s national bird, the Barbary partridge.

Then in 1989, a strange red-and-white Satan’s mushroom peeked from under the trees. Beautiful but poisonous, it was a secret the forest kept.

Finally, I arrived in 2012, where fields of licorice plants grew. People had used its roots for medicine for centuries, and sometimes even in sweet treats.

When I closed my stamp album, I realised these were not just little pieces of paper. They were tiny windows into Algeria’s history, nature and people. Each one held a story, waiting for the next curious collector to listen.

Stamp album closed… passport ready. Where will we go next?
The Stamp Collector’s Backpack