It was hard for me to pick a category for this to go under; it seems as if it should have its own, because no other single identifier seems appropriate. Eugen Kogon said "the significance of this name (Dachau) will never be erased from German history. It stands for all concentration camps which the Nazis established in their territory" And in many ways that could well sum up my entire review of this unexpected part of my trip to Germany. It seems a deep injustice to even attempt to review it in under 500 words, so forgive my lack of space here and try to understand the weight with which I still carry the experience.

When I first learned I would be making a trip around Europe, one of the very top things on my list to see was a concentration camp in Germany. It may sound a little bit dark, but I've always been deeply interested in the history surrounding WW2 and the Holocaust, and the fact that such a thing occurred so recently in our history. And I had wanted to see first hand where these events took place. I can tell you quite seriously that I can neither recommend, or unrecommended such a place. I openly and easily tell people from the moment I first arrived there, that being in Dachau was the worst thing I've ever experienced. But that does not mean I wish I hadn't done it. I went into it with a purely historical interest in the site, and no superstitions or fears whatsoever, (not being a person so inclined) and yet the moment I set foot through the gates (which still have guard towers that hang dark and ominous over the fenced in camp) I wanted nothing more in the world than to be far away. If you have any desire to get an idea of what the experience may have been like...even in the smallest way, then I could do no less than recommend it. But it is not an easy thing to bear, and I am not someone usually moved by such things.

I spent most of my time in Dachau, wandering in freezing rain, head bent feeling the most vast sense of surrounding sorrow I have ever experienced. Every stone seemed to remember what had happened there, and the tall trees planted by the prisoners there some 60 years ago waved tall along the walk to the Crematoria Area, even more mournful. It is all too recent, the memories there are strong. I watched other tourists, who had simply come along for the sight seeing standing in the rain in the courtyard in tears. Not one or two. Dozens. Men and women. Young and old. Teenagers on school trips weeping for something that earlier in the day they knew little about. It is an experience unlike any other, and if you have the desire and the will to go, be prepared to take away something you will carry forever.

The museum inside looks like a good place to begin. We did that last and I didn’t get a lot of time in there. The one thing I really liked were the memorials at the back of the camp. There’s a synagogue, a Catholic chapel, a Protestant chapel, and a little off to the side on the way to the crematorium, a Russian Orthodox chapel. I just found the architecture of the synagogue and the Protestant chapel to be particularly moving. Also, behind these memorials is a convent, which I also thought was touching. The nuns there pray every day for what has happened and for all of the people who come to Dachau to remember the victims of the Holocaust. You can also go to their chapel to pray if you like.