Visit a cemetery: tombstone tourism is motivated by curiosity not creep
This is one of a 4-part series of articles that share little travel stories sparked by common travel emotions. Also read about feeling challenged, mindful, and strong.
A common question about tombstone tourism: Isn’t visiting a cemetery creepy?
I have a childhood memory of playing in a local, abandoned graveyard near my friend’s house. I was living in London, England at the time and the tombstones were from the 1800s. The moss growing in the cracks of the stone and the ivy re-claiming the space made our “play space” private, wild and welcoming of our imaginations. My friend and I would make up stories about the people and imagine life “way back then.” My much beloved Anne of Green Gables stories were also set in the 1870s, so 11-year-old me developed an association that cemeteries were like libraries, holding the stories of interesting people.
A few years later, my stories of the departed jumped from fanciful fiction to genealogical fact during a cemetery visit in which many of the tombstones had my surname! In my early twenties, I visited a cemetery on Campobello Island, New Brunswick and felt an indescribable sense of belonging surrounded by the tombstones of my ancestors! My Dad’s family came to North America in the 1600s. They weren’t on the Mayflower, but on a ship not far behind. My ancestors left the American colonies and headed north to New Brunswick perhaps for improved quality of life, avoiding the revolution, or maybe because they had a grand sense of adventure! The experience transformed the stone markers from strangers to people who made choices and faced hardships so that a hundred years later, I live a privileged life in a beautiful country.
Since then, I continue to be fascinated with cemeteries. Friends call my interment interest morbid, dark, and creepy but my tombstone tourism motivations aren’t dark, they are curious! Instead, the appeal is history, stories, art, and community that merge in a graveyard visit. With some anthropology courses in my distant past, I’m also intrigued about how cultures deal with death. As the dictionary labels me, I'm a self-professed cemetery enthusiast: a taphophile. I do have my limits, though, as I am often quite uncomfortable in modern cemeteries where recent grief still hangs heavy in the air.
Tombstone Tourism
Honouring my curiosity, I’ve intentionally included a visit to a cemetery in my travels such as:
Walking solo across the city of Halifax to see the graves of Titanic victims.
Picnicking in a small church graveyard in the charming Scottish town of Dufftown where the town’s livelihood for centuries was whisky making.
Being dwarfed by the monuments in the 37-acre Necropolis in Glasgow learning that the city was the hub of commerce and historically, the greater your gravemarker, the greater your status.
My pre-pandemic cemetery experiences were limited to Canadian and British locations, which share similar characteristics like tombstone size, cemetery layouts, and attitudes about death. During my recent trip to Spain and Portugal, my passion for these visits was amplified as I encountered how different cultures deal with death.
Tombstone tourism in Seville, Spain
I googled the cemetery for Seville and discovered that El Cementerio de San Fernando is considered one of the most famous cemeteries in Spain with graves of many famous bullfighters and flamenco dancers.
My husband and I walked past the flower vendors who lined the street outside the cemetery entrance. This was my first sign that this place was full of activity. While graves here date back to the mid-1800s, it also includes modern plots. Our visit was the weekend before the Day of the Dead (November 2nd), and in Spanish tradition, families spend this weekend preparing for the big celebration by mopping out the crypts, gardening, and adding extra flowers. There was a buzz of activity about both the newer and older family crypts. Unprepared for all the people, we stuck to the “very old” laneways that had less cleaning action to remain unobtrusive.
Along with Spanish cultural traditions like the Day of the Dead, the cemetery was like strolling through Spain’s political history. There was a large mass grave where bodies had recently been exhumed. We discovered that when Spain was a fascist state, dictator Francisco Franco ordered the executions of government officials, intellectuals and other people he felt threatened by during a 1936 coup attempting to resist his dictatorship. A thousand bodies were dumped in a mass grave here and left for 84 years. The exhumation began in 2020 to give these people dignity in death. In contrast, the fascist supporters during his 36 years of power were easily identified by the opulence of their family plots.
Tombstone tourism in Lisbon, Portugal
We went to not one but two glorious cemeteries in Lisbon. Both were beautiful, but if you had to choose one, I’d suggest Cemetario dos Prazeres - the best view, the best assortment of mausoleums, and a beautiful tribute to firefighters. At the terminal end of one of the famous cable car routes, it is also an easy, enjoyable way to visit the cemetery.
Like the nerdy taphophile that I am, I found an audio tour to get the most out of our visit to what is considered one of the more beautiful cemeteries in the world. (Try an audio tour with VoiceMap) With our earbuds in, we quietly strolled while listening to our guide share stories and point out the art and symbolism that is prevalent in Portuguese cemeteries. Portuguese graveyards are built like little cities. There are street names and cypress tree-lined avenues covering 30 beautiful acres. Unlike Spain, there weren’t underground crypts, but little houses. In some, you can see coffins, decaying lace doilies, and little seating areas created for families to spend quality time with the departed.
Originally a farm, when cholera hit hard, the area became the final resting place of the rich. One of the biggest mausoleums was of a nobleman who was also a Free Mason. The family grave which is the size of a small church was steeped in symbolism such as pyramids, obelisks, groups of 3, the number 7, compasses, roses etc. In the same manner of making up stories in my childhood graveyard playground, my mind exploded with images of secret society meetings and masked scandals that authors like Dan Brown have made their fortune!
Going “Dead” Slow - a taphophile play on words!
Graveyards are a break from the typical hustle and bustle of a city. They are quiet and uncrowded places that speak to my introverted sensibilities. They are either beautifully manicured like a garden or wildly natural; either way, I see the beauty in the space. There is no hurry - the residents aren’t going anywhere!
I don’t specifically feel spiritual in a cemetery but respect whatever religion or belief that invariably inspired the dedications and art of the deceased. Regardless of religion, cemeteries do remind me of my mortality. Memento mori is Latin for remember you will die. A good, strong hint about gratitude and not taking time for granted.
Visiting graveyards is an interest that continues to shape my travel destinations and itineraries. I personally don’t have a “bucket list” of cemeteries although there are some fascinating lists to be inspired from. I follow author Loren Rhoads who has written 99 Cemeteries to See Before you Die and Wish You Were Here: Adventures in Cemetery Travel and will continue to routinely seek out local graveyards in the places I visit. Tombstone tourism allows me to add a unique and personalized layer of learning to my travels.
Here are a few to get you inspired!
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