When most people imagine a vacation, they picture sunshine, relaxation and escape from the daily grind – not sites of devastation and death.
However, for a growing number of travellers, tourism takes on a different form, venturing into the shadows of history.
Also known as thanatourism, black tourism or grief tourism, dark tourism involves visiting locations associated with tragedy, death, suffering or the gruesome.
From former concentration camps and nuclear disaster zones to abandoned prisons and battlefields, these sites offer more than just historical facts – they offer raw, often emotional insight into the darkest chapters of the human experience.
So, what compels someone to spend their holiday visiting places steeped in trauma and loss?
For many, the answer lies in a deep desire to understand – to engage with history not as something distant and abstract, but something that was lived and felt.
Walking through a preserved concentration camp or standing in the ruins of a bombed-out city offers an innate reminder of what humanity is capable of – both its cruelty and its resilience.
There’s a human instinct that draws us to tragedy – the same one that causes drivers to slow down at the scene of a car crash.
It’s not just morbid curiosity; for many dark tourists, it’s about making sense of the senseless.
Some visit to honour the dead, others to educate themselves and still others to confront the horror that words alone cannot convey.
As my friend who recently visited Robben Island put it: “You can read about history, but being here, feeling that changes everything.”
Journalist David Farrier explored this global phenomenon in the 2018 Netflix documentary “Dark Tourist”.
In the series, Farrier travels to unsettling destinations across the world, from nuclear exclusion zones to voodoo rituals, chasing the question: why do people voluntarily seek out places so closely tied to fear, pain and death?
Some experts argue that dark tourism is a way of feeling more alive, a shock of intensity before returning to the safety of modern life.
Others see it as a form of grief work or historical reckoning. Either way, dark tourism isn’t new.
According to Professor J. John Lennon, one of the earliest examples dates back to the Battle of Waterloo, when wealthy spectators watched the fighting unfold from their carriages.
Go even further back and you’ll find crowds gathering for public hangings in 16th-century England, or the blood-soaked gladiator games of ancient Rome.
Whether for entertainment, reflection or education, humanity has long been fascinated by death.
In modern times, dark tourism has also evolved into a way of preserving memory and encouraging reflection. It offers context to the past and forces visitors to reckon with truths that are uncomfortable but necessary to remember.
Some of the most visited dark tourism destinations today include:
Auschwitz-Birkenau, Poland
Over 1.5 million people, mostly Jews, were murdered at this Nazi death camp during World War II. It now stands as a museum and memorial, reminding the world of the horrors of the Holocaust.
Robben Island, South Africa
This is a notorious apartheid-era prison where Nelson Mandela was held for 18 years. Tours are often led by former prisoners, offering powerful testimony on injustice, resistance and reconciliation.
Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park, Japan
This is the site of the atomic bombing in 1945. Home to the Atomic Bomb Dome and Peace Memorial Museum, it’s a solemn tribute to the lives lost and a call for global peace.
Oradour-sur-Glane, France
This is a French village that was destroyed by Nazi troops in 1944; 642 civilians were massacred. Preserved in its ruined state, the ghost town stands as a haunting reminder of wartime atrocities.
Despite its educational and emotional power, dark tourism isn’t without controversy.
Critics argue that some sites risk turning trauma into spectacle, or that visitors may approach them with curiosity rather than genuine respect.
But when done thoughtfully and ethically, dark tourism can play a vital role in ensuring that past tragedies are not forgotten.
