Dark sky retreats are on the rise—here's where to take one

From the deck of Kielder Observatory, I look out across a sea of spruce, pine and larch overlaid by a slender film of mist. This is England’s largest forest, and in the soft light of a summer’s evening, it’s a mesmerising sight. But I’m not here to look out. I’m here to look up.

The observatory — a stilted timber structure that feels like a bird hide hijacked by Scandi-chic architects — is Northumberland’s top stargazing spot and, given the county’s dark-sky reputation, arguably the finest in the country.

It’s been 12 years since Northumberland National Park and most of neighbouring Kielder Forest was designated a Dark Sky Park. “The key was, and is, the low population density,” says Duncan Wise, the national park officer who was instrumental in securing the status. “It’s roughly similar to that of outer Mongolia.”

Light pollution is almost non-existent here, and joint initiatives with local councils keep it that way. It means that, when clouds are absent, the night sky reveals itself with astonishing clarity. Kielder Observatory, located at an altitude of 1,200ft at the end of a two-mile track, helps make sense of the spectacle above, aided by some serious hardware and a group of astronomical experts.

(10 of the best places for stargazing in the UK.)

One of them, astrophotographer Dan Monk, greets me amiably as I arrive. No one’s worked here longer than the bearded Sunderland man, nor, judging by his striking images on sale in the gift shop, taken more compelling shots of Northumberland’s dazzling night sky.

As we’re talking, a group of guests stop mid-tour for hot chocolate, some on-brand nourishment in the form of Milky Ways and Mars bars, and to nose around the astrophotography suite. There’s some intimidating equipment in here: chest-high cylindrical telescopes line one corner, including one the size of an anti-aircraft gun, worth nearly £30,000. On clear nights, these are rolled out onto the deck for long, immersive stargazing sessions.

When Kielder first opened, it was expected to host a couple of events a month. Today, it’s in excess of 700 a year, catering for everyone from seasoned astronomers to starry-eyed novices. Covid caused a spike in interest, as it did with many pared-back, nature-adjacent activities. “Suddenly people were buying telescopes and stargazing from their gardens,” explains Dan.

If it’s overcast, as it’s shaping up to be this evening, Dan and his team merely pivot to their cloudy-night experience. I join the group in the site’s turreted Sir Patrick Moore Observatory, named for the legendary presenter of the BBC’s The Sky at Night. Here, myself and a dozen others get to handle the 16-inch TS Ritchey-Chrétien telescope. “There’s a law in science; the shinier something is, the fancier it is,” jokes our guide, before demonstrating some of the star-tracking functionality of this gleaming bit of kit.

On a giant screen next door in the lecture theatre, Stellarium is showing us exactly what we’re missing in the night sky, in real time. The software programme is able to offer its perfect, dynamic simulations of the stars above from any spot on Earth. Using this, Dan talks us through the nuances of everything from deep-sky nebulae to the annual Perseids meteor shower — streaks of cosmic dust that briefly turn the darkness into a light show.

One of Dan’s favourite Kielder memories — from a career that’s included more than 50 Northern Lights sightings — is of a meteor that arced across the sky and lingered for 15 seconds before breaking apart. Typical meteors, no bigger than a grain of sand, vanish in an instant. “This one must have been several feet wide,” he says with a grin.

By the time we file out of the lecture theatre our heads are spinning, constellations still dancing behind our eyes. It’s almost 11pm, eerily quiet and there’s a scent of pine on the cool breeze. For Dan, though, this is an early finish — his last session ran until 1am. “If it’s super clear and the group is having fun, I tend to say ‘stay as long as you like’,” he says. “I’ve been known to do all-nighters.”

As Northumberland’s stargazing reputation has grown, so local businesses have leant in. I find one of the most striking examples of this the next day at the Twice Brewed Inn, in the shadow of Hadrian’s Wall, around an hour’s drive south. The popular pub and microbrewery has established its own 30-seater planetarium with a 360-degree immersive dome, plus a 55-seat presentation room and a fleet of portable Dobsonian telescopes for stargazing events.

Resident astronomer Wil Cheung is an experienced astrophotographer whose picture of the International Space Station passing in front of the sun went viral in 2022. Like Kielder, events rarely end on time, he tells me. “When the Northern Lights kick off, we stay out for hours.” I can’t settle in for the night, however — my bed awaits at what may be Northumberland’s most exclusive stargazing retreat. Raven is one of seven luxurious huts, cabins and fairytale treehouses tucked within the 4,000-acre Hesleyside Estate, 20 miles north of Twice Brewed.

Set in a thickly wooded corner of the estate, Raven is modelled loosely on a defensive watchtower. Cosy and contemporary, it features a single room on each of the four floors, with a turntable, whisky cabinet, wood-burner and a conspicuous lack of wi-fi. I light the fire, pour myself a dram and make my way to the top floor. There’s a powerful telescope here but, instead, I opt for filling the handcrafted wooden tub, easing myself in and opening the huge, retractable glass ceiling to reveal an inky black sky blinking with innumerable pinpricks of light. There’s more than one way to stargaze, it seems.

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