
Before the huge tsunami virtually wiped it off the map in 2011,
Rikuzentakata's pristine beach and luxuriant pine forests were a
well-worn stop on Japan's tourist trail.
Now, the visitors are coming back, but this time, they want to see
the devastation and the monuments to those who died.
This is the latest example of a phenomenon dubbed "dark tourism",
where travellers pay to witness the aftermath of others'
misery.
Akira Shindo, 15, from New York, who was touring Japan's devastated
northeast coast, said: "You can't really get a sense how huge the
tsunami was unless you actually come here and see."
More than 18,000 people were killed when a 9.0-magnitude undersea
quake sent huge waves barrelling into Japan.
Whole communities were destroyed, buildings were turned into
matchwood and acres of prime land were left unfarmable when a
furious sea smashed ashore.
In Rikuzentakata, a forest of 70,000 pine trees that had protected
the city from ocean winds for 300 years was swept away.
Just one tree - the "miracle pine" - survived the ravages of
nature. It has undergone 150 million yen (S$1.9 million) of
reinforcement to prop it up and has now become a must-see spot for
visitors to the area.
"The tree was the tallest, 27m, and the two storey-building behind
it prevented the wave from sweeping it away," said Ms Mitsuko
Morinaga, a 62-year-old volunteer who takes tourists around her
devastated home town.
Near the pine tree, dozens of excavators and dump trucks work
busily, processing piles of debris or clearing land for new
homes.

"Reconstruction is under way, but evacuees have to wait at least
three years before their new houses will be built on the hillside,"
Ms Morinaga told AFP.
Travel agent Shuichi Matsuda, who organised the tour for 24 people,
said he set it up because he "wanted to prevent the memory of the
disaster from fading".
Everyone AFP spoke to on the tour expressed horror at the suffering
of people whose lives were torn apart by the tragedy.
But disaster zones undoubtedly draw their fair share of ghoulish
sightseers.
Ban
Seven years after Hurricane Katrina devastated the United States
city of New Orleans, residents of one hard-hit area became so fed
up with the hordes of gawking tourists feasting on their misery
that they got the city to ban tour buses.
A hand-painted sign on one street corner summed up their
frustration in dripping black paint: "Tourist - shame on you.
Driving by without stopping. Paying to see my pain. 1,600 died
here."
Lauren Cason, a spokesman for the city's tourism board, said that
visitors were welcome to New Orleans, but residents wanted them to
see the positive side.
"What we try to highlight is the comeback story and that the city
is...thriving," she told AFP.
While the bigger buses are gone, the voyeurs are not.
Two of the city's more than 30 tour operators still offer limited
"Katrina" tours and a fair number of the Big Easy's nine million
annual visitors also opt to take a taxi or rent a car to see the
remaining wreckage.


