Snow, Adventure and Pure Joy — Elite d’Or’s Trip to Tikjda Mountains

A winter journey to the peaks of Tikjda, Bouira

The Call of the Mountains

There are days that remind you why you love where you live. Days when the ordinary routine gives way to something extraordinary — something that fills your lungs with cold mountain air and your heart with the kind of joy that only nature can offer. Our trip to the snow-covered peaks of Tikjda was exactly one of those days.

Located approximately two hours from our home city of Dellys, the Tikjda mountain range in the Djurdjura National Park is one of Algeria’s most spectacular natural treasures. Rising to heights of over 2,000 meters, these ancient peaks transform every winter into a world of white — a landscape so beautiful and so still that it feels almost unreal. And this season, Elite d’Or Academy packed its bags, gathered its students, parents, teachers and the members of our English Conversation Club, and set off toward the snow.

Two Hours to Another World

The journey itself was part of the adventure. As our convoy left the coast of Dellys behind and climbed steadily through the winding mountain roads, the landscape began to change. The familiar green of the coastal hills gave way to bare rocky slopes, then to frost-covered trees, then — with every kilometer gained in altitude — to the first shy patches of white that drew excited gasps from the younger passengers.

By the time we reached the Tikjda parking area, the air had turned sharp and clean, carrying that particular mountain coldness that wakes every cell in your body. There was snow on the ground — but not enough. Not yet.

The Walk That Made the Adventure

And here is where the real adventure began.

The parking area offered only a modest covering of snow — a teaser, a promise of what lay above. To reach the deep snow, we would have to walk upward into the mountain. And so we did — and it was, without question, the best decision of the day.

With every step we took up the mountain path, the ground grew whiter. The patches of snow became stretches, the stretches became fields, and the fields became a world entirely covered in white. Children ran ahead, their boots crunching in the snow, turning back every few steps to call out to the adults still climbing behind them. With every hundred meters gained, the landscape transformed further — the trees thicker, the silence deeper, the white more complete.

There is something magical about that gradual reveal — about earning the snow with your own legs rather than simply arriving at it. By the time we reached the areas of deep, untouched snow, the whole group was breathless — partly from the altitude, but mostly from the sheer beauty of where we had arrived.

Snow, Laughter and Flying Snowballs

What followed was pure, unfiltered joy.

The snowball fight started almost immediately — and no one was safe. Students chased teachers, teachers chased students back, and parents who had tried to remain dignified observers found themselves pelted from all sides and laughing harder than they had in months. The mountain echoed with the sound of laughter, shrieks and the satisfying thud of snowballs finding their targets.

Then came the snowman. Built with great collective effort, much debate about the correct size of the head, and decorated with whatever the mountain and our pockets could offer, our snowman stood proudly in the white landscape — a shared creation that everyone felt a small ownership of.

The children rolled in the snow, buried each other up to the waist, made snow angels and generally treated the entire mountain as their personal playground. It was the kind of uninhibited, full-body happiness that is rare and precious — and worth every minute of the two-hour drive.

A Chance Encounter by the Fire

As we explored the upper slopes, we came across something that captured the imagination of our students perhaps more than anything else that day — a group of adventurers who had set up a camping site right there in the heart of the snowy mountain.

Their tent was pitched between the trees, their equipment carefully arranged around a crackling campfire that sent a column of warm smoke rising into the cold mountain air. The scene was straight out of an adventure film — and our students were immediately captivated.

The campers welcomed us warmly, and we gathered around their fire for a few precious minutes of shared warmth and conversation. For many of our students, this was their first encounter with mountain camping — and the seed of a new dream was clearly planted in more than a few young minds. The idea that one could simply choose to sleep under the stars in the snow — that this was something real people actually did — opened a window of possibility that no classroom could have opened.

Skiing on the Slopes of Tikjda

No snow trip would be complete without skiing — and Elite d’Or was not going to miss that opportunity.

We arranged the rental of skiing equipment on the spot, and one by one, our brave students and a few equally brave adults strapped on their skis and took to the slopes. First attempts were predictably spectacular — in the most entertaining sense of the word — with more falling than gliding and more laughter than elegance. But with each run, confidence grew, balance improved and the sheer thrill of moving across snow on two thin planks began to reveal itself.

For many of our students, this was their first time skiing — and first times, as we know, are unforgettable. The feeling of sliding down a snow-covered slope with the cold wind in your face and the white world rushing past you is one that stays with you. We are fairly confident that some future skiing champions were discovered on those slopes that day.

The Summit — Where Everything Was White

For the most adventurous members of our group — particularly several students and teachers from our English language section — the day held one final challenge: reaching the summit.

While the rest of the group rested and enjoyed the scenery below, this small, determined team continued climbing — higher and higher, past the tree line, past the deep snow fields, toward the top of the peak. And when they arrived, what they found was worth every step.

At the summit, everything was white. The entire world below — the valley, the lower slopes, the distant plains where no snow had fallen — spread out beneath them in a panorama of extraordinary beauty. They took photographs that captured the precise line where the snow ends and the green world begins — images that look almost too beautiful to be real, and that perfectly illustrate just how high they had climbed.

Those photos, shared with the rest of the group at the end of the day, produced a collective silence followed by a unanimous “we should have gone too.”

An Unexpected Encounter — The Mountain’s Other Residents

Tikjda is home to more than just snow and silence. As we explored the mountain trails, we had the delightful surprise of encountering a group of Barbary macaques — the wild monkeys that inhabit the forests of the Djurdjura National Park and have become one of its most beloved attractions.

Curious, bold and entirely at home in their snowy mountain habitat, the macaques observed our group with the same interest with which we observed them. For the children, this was an absolute highlight — a real, wild animal encounter that no zoo visit could replicate. The monkeys moved between the snow-covered trees with effortless grace, seemingly unbothered by the cold that had our students wrapped in every layer they owned.

It was a reminder that we were guests in their world — and a beautiful one at that.

Stillness at the Top

Among all the laughter and activity of the day, there was one moment that many in our group will remember most quietly — and most deeply.

High on the mountain, surrounded by snow-covered trees standing perfectly still in the cold air, we stopped. We sat down on the snow, caught our breath and simply listened to the silence. The kind of silence that cities never offer — complete, soft and somehow alive. The white trees around us, the pale winter sky above, the distant sound of the wind moving through the peaks. Nothing else.

In a world that is always loud, always connected and always rushing, that silence was a gift. Several of our students — usually the last ones to sit still for more than thirty seconds — sat quietly for longer than anyone expected, looking out at the white world around them with expressions of something that can only be described as wonder.

More Than a Snow Day

As the light began to fade and we began the long, happy, exhausted walk back down to the parking area, the conversations that filled the descent were already replaying the highlights of the day — the snowball that hit the teacher, the snowman that lost his nose, the campfire strangers, the monkeys, the summit photos, the first ski run that ended in a spectacular fall.

But beyond the fun and the laughter, this trip carried something deeper. It brought together students, parents and teachers in a shared experience that no classroom wall can contain. It showed our students that adventure is close — just two hours from home, in the mountains that frame our horizon every day. And it reminded all of us that the world is generous with its beauty, as long as we are willing to put on our boots and walk toward it.

At Elite d’Or, learning is not confined to textbooks and grammar rules. It lives in snowball fights and campfire conversations, in the silence of a snow-covered peak and in the eyes of a wild monkey looking back at you from a frozen tree.

The mountains will be white again next winter. We will be back.