The Dachau Concentration Camp Memorial Site, just outside Munich, revealed its stark reality the moment I entered the grounds. Passing through what is now a quiet suburban area, the emptiness gradually gave way to a place that once ranked among the most horrific sites in human history, a place where death, fear, and sorrow were daily realities.
Today, most visitors arrive at Dachau via public transportation, entering the memorial much as prisoners once did in the 1930s. The difference is jarring: instead of forced marches, visitors step off a city bus that now winds through peaceful residential streets. The route may have softened, but the destination has not.
Although the term dark tourism was formally coined in the 1990s by scholars John Lennon and Malcolm Foley, the practice itself has existed for centuries. Long before it had a name, people traveled to public execution sites, battlefields, and disaster zones. It was happening long before anyone recognized it as a distinct category of travel.
What Is Dark Tourism?
Dark tourism refers to visiting sites associated with death, tragedy, or human suffering. These include former concentration camps, war memorials, disaster locations, cemeteries, and sites of political assassinations. The Flame of Liberty in Paris, for example, has become a dark tourism site because it marks the location of the tunnel where Diana, Princess of Wales, died in a car crash.
People are drawn to these places for many reasons. Researcher and speaker Dr. Sharon Stainton explains, through her website and TEDx presentation, that travelers often visit dark tourism sites to better understand historical events and their root causes. The hope is that by confronting these histories directly, visitors may help prevent similar tragedies from occurring again.
The Storytelling of Dark Sites
Dark tourism sites rely heavily on storytelling to convey their significance. Some tours use graphic photographs and firsthand accounts to explain violent events, while others focus on the social conditions that enabled them. In London’s East End, for instance, guides recount grim tales of poverty, alcoholism, and prostitution while standing outside former lodging houses where homeless residents once slept in lice-infested beds.
Elsewhere, places like Alcatraz Island in San Francisco offer insight into incarceration and justice systems, while the Paris Catacombs reveal how earlier societies dealt with overwhelming numbers of dead. Gettysburg National Military Park preserves the landscapes of Civil War battles, reminding visitors of the immense human cost of conflict.
The 9/11 Memorial in New York City stands as a site of collective grief and remembrance, honoring the lives lost while inviting reflection on how the tragedy unfolded. Across these locations, visitors share a common desire: to understand what happened, why it happened, and what lessons can be learned.
Why Are We Drawn to These Places?
At its core, dark tourism reflects a desire to understand ourselves. Our identities are shaped by history, and places like Pompeii, preserved under volcanic ash, offer a frozen moment in time that allows us to witness the abrupt end of ordinary lives.
Standing in these places creates a powerful sense of suspended time. When history feels tangible and immediate, it provokes deeper thought and empathy than distant or abstract storytelling ever could. Yet the blending of education with entertainment, such as true crime tours or visits to abandoned institutions, can blur the line between respectful learning and spectacle.
These experiences raise important questions about behavior, ethics, and respect. A responsible approach to dark tourism requires slowing down, reflecting deeply, and fully acknowledging the human suffering behind the stories. To truly understand these places, visitors must be willing to confront uncomfortable truths rather than seek easy consumption.
Bottom Line
Some argue that dark tourism should only include sites where actual deaths occurred. Others believe it extends to abandoned settlements, ancient ruins, and even theatrical reenactments of historical events. However one defines it, these places have a profound emotional impact.
Dark tourism forces us to confront humanity’s capacity for destruction while ensuring that memories of suffering do not fade. It exists not to sensationalize tragedy, but to memorialize it, offering lessons that remain urgently relevant. By preserving these stories and places, dark tourism helps ensure that history is remembered, examined, and, ideally, learned from.
For a deeper exploration of this topic, read the full Travel article.