Astronomer Percival Lowell founded his Arizona stargazing lab in 1894 to aid in his search for life on Mars. While that quest is still ongoing, the observatory made history as the place where assistant Clyde Tombaugh discovered Pluto in 1930. (If you’re still not over its dwarf planet demotion, be sure to visit during the annual I Heart Pluto Festival, which started in 2020.)
Last fall the observatory expanded to welcome visitors in the new $53 million Marley Foundation Astronomy Discovery Center, where the central atrium is dominated by a suspended installation symbolizing the evolution of matter after the Big Bang. Despite such lofty inspirations, new exhibits are much more down-to-earth, prioritizing all-ages interactivity. Families can catch a show on the two-story, 160-degree wraparound LED theater screen, while kids can smell moondust, send messages into space, and launch their own rockets.
Executive director Amanda Bosh first came to the observatory as an MIT postdoctoral fellow and she has made spreading the celestial word a core part of her mission, including by co-founding the Native American Astronomy Outreach Program. “When I first visited Lowell Observatory in 1985, I was spellbound by the beautiful telescopes and the important discoveries,” she says. “I’m so happy that I get to share these discoveries with the next generations.”
The most game-changing feature of the expansion is its rooftop planetarium: befitting Flagstaff’s position as the first International Dark Sky Place, the planetarium skips a domed movie screen in favor of the wide-open night sky; heated seats let you take in celestial sites even when it’s snowing. “Lowell staff will point out planets, stars, constellations, and whatever visitors—like comets and meteor showers—are in the sky on a given night,” says Bosh. Unlike at a normal planetarium with a programmed show, that unpredictability is a pivotal part of the experience. One night, the International Space Station may pass overhead; another might bring the Lyrid meteor showers.
Astrotourism has gained traction around the globe in recent years, helped along by 2024’s astounding solar eclipse, as travelers look for more peaceful—and meaningful—escapes. Destinations everywhere from the Atacama Desert to Namibia have leaned into their nocturnal bonafides. Glamping bubbles and retractable-roof safari tents that allow for in-bed stargazing have grown in popularity, with newcomers in the space including Clear Sky Resorts in Utah, Kosmos Stargazing Resort & Spa in Colorado, and Asilia Kokoko Camp in Tanzania’s Ruaha National Park. Hotels and resorts are investing in staff astronomers, building their own private observatories, and planning group outings to see phenomena like the Perseid meteor shower.
Arizona has become an unofficial capital of astrotourism, with 20 DarkSky-certified communities, parks, sanctuaries, and urban spaces stretching across all corners of the Grand Canyon State. This January, for instance, Tucson even introduced its own Astro Trail, which links up state and national parks, observatories, a planetarium, an air and space museum, and the Richard F. Caris Mirror Lab, where nearly 28-foot-wide mirrors for the world’s most advanced telescopes are created beneath the University of Arizona football stadium.
Near the Lowell Observatory in Flagstaff, other DarkSky International–designated locations include Sunset Crater Volcano, Walnut Canyon, and Wupatki National Monuments, where light pollution is effectively nonexistent. Flagstaff sits squarely on Route 66—which celebrates its centennial in 2026—and due to the city’s dark sky protections, visitors can often see the Milky Way right from the center of town. Local hotels even let guests stargaze without leaving the property: High Country Motor Lodge hosts Lowell astronomers for after-dark star parties, while the retro Americana Motor Hotel off Route 66 loans out telescopes to guests.
But none have the scientific legitimacy of the Lowell Observatory, which takes astrotourism to a whole new level. With earthly extravagances (like elaborate spa treatments and expansive suites) feeling increasingly commonplace, the ultimate luxury just might be something much simpler: a dark slice of sky where you can look up, take a deep breath, and contemplate the vastness of the universe.