Decades ago, when I was beginning my journey as a stargazer, I found myself at a so-called “night sky experience” in a remote location that, on paper, ticked every box. We were a small group — enthusiastic, hopeful and excited, having driven into the middle of nowhere to meet an astronomer. We were all standing under a dark, protected sky.
But there, on the rise as the session began, was a big, bright, just-past-full moon. There was no Milky Way, and just a few bright stars clung on.
People were polite. Someone asked where the Andromeda galaxy was. We were shown a very faint smudge in a telescope, which was then pointed at the moon. Within 20 minutes, people were drifting away. There was no wow factor … just moonlight.
That night taught me something I’ve never forgotten: darkness is not a given, and very often astrotourism is planned around the convenience of the host or the venue, not the night sky. A dark, moonless night sky is something you have to plan for — precisely and deliberately — or your stargazing experience can instantly collapse.
When and where to do astrotourism
Astrotourism only works when a few key variables align — and the most important is darkness. That means thinking about the moon first, not last.
It’s always critical to consult a moonrise calculator for a specific location, but as a rule of thumb, the ideal window runs from last quarter moon through to a few nights after new moon — roughly ten nights when the evening sky is properly dark. Outside that period, moonlight dominates, washing out faint stars and erasing the Milky Way. You can travel to the darkest place on Earth, but under a bright moon, it will look no more impressive than a suburban sky.
Location comes next. Certified sites — particularly Dark Sky Places — offer the best chance of true darkness. Within those, remote Dark Sky Parks often offer exceptionally dark observing conditions. In Canada, there are Dark-Sky Preserves, in the U.K., there are informal Dark Sky Discovery Sites, and in Spain (and dotted around the world), there are Starlight Reserves. Or you can just study a light pollution map.
But it’s not just about light pollution (or lack of) — it’s also about perspective. Everyone on Earth sees a slightly different night sky. Move south, even by a few degrees, and the Milky Way’s bright core shifts higher and looks brighter. Head toward the equator or into the Southern Hemisphere, and entirely new constellations appear. Since the brightest part of the Milky Way — its galactic core — appears in the southern sky for northern observers, think about positioning: be under a dark sky south of major cities, not to their north; otherwise, you’ll have a dome of light just where you want it to be dark.
Then there’s season. At higher mid-northern latitudes, summer twilight can dramatically shorten — or even eliminate — true darkness altogether. That makes May a crucial window — or forces a decision to travel further afield. Altitude also helps. There’s a reason the world’s great observatories sit high above sea level: thinner, drier air produces clearer, sharper skies.
Astrotourism, like all aspects of astronomy, demands careful precision planning of the factors you can control.
How and when I plan astrotourism trips
I always plan backward — starting with what I want to see, not where I want to go.
If it’s the Milky Way, I’m targeting late summer into autumn, when its bright central regions are visible just after dark in the southwest. If it’s a meteor shower, I check whether it coincides with dark moonless skies. If it doesn’t, I skip it. A famous meteor shower under a bright moon can be significantly diminished by moonlight.
Some astro events force your hand, but you can still ruthlessly plan. For the best chance of seeing aurora, head to latitudes around 65 degrees north, but it’s still all about the new moon, which allows even faint displays to impress. That goes double in March, when the “equinox effect” makes powerful displays more likely (tried and tested!). For eclipses, the date and often the place are fixed.
Once I have dates, I sanity-check the fundamentals. Will it actually get dark at that latitude? What are the historical cloud patterns? I lean on climate data rather than optimism — clear skies are not evenly distributed across the planet, and choosing the right region can make the difference between success and failure. Deserts are a shoo-in, but I’m always suspicious of coasts and always research when the rainy season is for a particular location — never assume, always check.
I also build redundancy into every trip. One clear night is not enough. I want several chances, ideally with the flexibility to move if conditions change. That might mean hiring a car, staying in multiple locations or simply allowing time. After all, arriving somewhere on the new moon might sound ideally timed, but that means you only have a few nights left before moonlight begins to interfere; you’ve actually arrived a week late.
Of course, compromises do have to be made. Work patterns, flight times and accommodation availability are all out of your control — so plan early. Really early. The motions of the night sky are highly predictable. So plan it, a year or two ahead, and make arrangements before anyone else has even thought of it. That’s the only way to be in the right place, at the right time, under a perfect sky. All you need then is weather luck.
Stargazer’s corner: May 22-28, 2026
May 22 is the perfect time to get out after sunset and see the ecliptic — the plane of the solar system across the sky. Look for the 44%-illuminated moon and travel in a diagonal line down to the northwest horizon, where you’ll find Mercury (it won’t be easy to see, but give it a go if you have an unobstructed view). Low in the west-northwest after sunset, the innermost planet reaches a useful height in late May before slipping back toward the sun during early June.
Between the moon and Mercury, you’ll find two bright planets — Jupiter and Venus. Venus remains the dominant “evening star,” shining brilliantly in twilight and holding its altitude through the coming weeks, while Jupiter lingers nearby — setting the stage for a much tighter meeting early next month. As it gets dark, find Regulus — the brightest star in the constellation Leo — close to the moon.
After the moon turns last quarter on May 23, it continues eastward towards Virgo, where it shines near Spica on May 26 and 27.
Related: I thought my backyard had too much light pollution for astrophotography. The Vaonis Vespera Pro proved me wrong
Constellation of the week: Leo
Leo is now slipping toward the western horizon, but this week is a good opportunity to focus on its tail star, Denebola. While most people recognize the Sickle that forms the lion’s head, Denebola marks the back of the constellation at the edge of a quieter part of the sky. As Leo sets earlier each night, you’re watching the sky change in real time, with one season handing over to the next. With the gradual departure of Leo, summer in the Northern Hemisphere is on its way.
