Heaven and Hell on Earth: 8 Impossible Places to Visit That Aren’t Entirely Impossible
Yes, there are people who actually enjoy bucket listing at its extreme. “Heaven and Hell on Earth” explores eight of the planet’s most extreme, dangerous, and remote destinations. From volcanic infernos and scorching deserts to towering fjords and frozen cliff worlds, for those who want to push the limits. For the rest of us, it's fun just knowing these places exists and that others can tell use stories about them.
by Dr.Jeffrey DeSarbo, The Bucket List Doctor
Some bucket list destinations are easy: a flight, a hotel, an itinerary. Others, however, demand something deeper, including intention, resilience, and patience. Others require way more: identity. The destinations here are so inaccessible, dangerous, or logistically complex that reaching them becomes a psychological feat. In fact, if I include a disclaimer here, it’s probably simply 'don’t do these.' However, for those extreme enthusiasts who love to go against the grain, and for us others who like to peer into the lives of those who enjoy living on the edge, these are not just trips; they are rites of passage.
Travelers often describe a tectonic shift within themselves from the start: the planning, anticipation, hardship, and uncertainty are as transformative as the arrival. These places challenge not just geography, but who we believe ourselves to be. Upon arrival, you don’t simply step onto a new land; you step into a different version of yourself.
These destinations exist on the edges of Earth, but also on the edges of the human psyche. The effort, the uncertainty, and the danger all sharpen the brain’s sense of meaning and heighten the emotional imprint of the experience. These aren’t vacations. These are life thresholds.
Below are eight of the world’s rarest, most inaccessible, and most psychologically powerful destinations. These are journeys through places that feel like heaven and hell folded into Earth; impossible, yet still attainable for those who desire such adventures and are willing to earn them.
1. Tristan da Cunha — A Village at the End of the World
Tristan da Cunha sits in the South Atlantic Ocean, so far from anywhere that it may as well float at the edge of imagination. Politically, it belongs to the British Overseas Territory of Saint Helena, Ascension, and Tristan da Cunha. Geographically, it lies nearly 1,500 miles from South Africa, its nearest neighbor, and thousands of miles further from South America. A lone volcanic peak rises sharply from the endless ocean. The island is a speck, but the journey is enormous.
Reaching Tristan requires a week at sea in unpredictable waters. The danger isn’t dramatic cliffs or wildlife; it’s isolation itself. If something happens out there, help is many days away. Only a few dozen people visit each year. Those who do tend to be explorers, scientists, and travelers who see geography as an emotional frontier.
People go because Tristan feels like stepping into an alternate human timeline: a world of 300 residents, warm hospitality, shared work, and a pace of life untethered from modern urgency. If someone wants to make the journey, they must request permission from Tristan’s government and join one of the rare ships departing Cape Town. It’s a test of patience, intention, and commitment, which is exactly why those who go remember it forever.
2. Socotra Island — Earth’s Most Alien Landscape
Off the coast of Yemen, floating in the Arabian Sea near the Horn of Africa, lies Socotra, a Yemeni-governed island whose evolutionary independence produced life forms found nowhere else. It's strange, umbrella-shaped dragon’s blood trees look like something from a science fiction film. Geography here feels dreamlike: white dunes slide into turquoise water, caves glow with mineral deposits, and beaches light up with nighttime bioluminescence.
Getting there, however, is a complicated process. Access depends heavily on the political conditions in Yemen, which aren’t the best at the moment. Flights operate sporadically, and during the monsoon season, the ocean itself closes the island off from the world. This volatility, both geographic and geopolitical, makes the journey risky.
Those fortunate enough to visit tend to be naturalists, photographers, and travelers drawn to landscapes that rewrite their understanding of what Earth can look like. Some years, a few thousand people make it; in unstable years, far fewer. To go, one typically arranges a charter flight through Abu Dhabi, using specialized Socotra-based operators, and prepares for changing schedules and limited medical resources.
The reward is a sense of arrival into a place untouched by time and a reminder of Earth’s ability to surprise even the most seasoned traveler.
3. Bouvet Island — The Loneliest Place on Earth
Bouvet Island belongs to Norway, although it is located in the sub-Antarctic region of the South Atlantic. It is far closer to Antarctica than to its European steward. If Tristan feels remote, Bouvet feels mythical. This frozen island, which is 98 percent covered by glaciers, rises from violent seas, walled by cliffs and battered by storms. It has no harbor, no protected landing, and often no mercy for the ships that approach.
Even scientific expeditions fail to land when the weather shifts suddenly, and the weather here does so frequently. Only a handful of people land on Bouvet in any given decade, most of them polar researchers and ultra-extreme explorers. If you’re one of them, welcome to my mild-mannered website.
Those who go aren’t chasing scenery; they’re chasing the psychological equivalent of standing at the outer edge of the map. Bouvet represents pure isolation; a place that seems to resist human arrival. Anyone attempting it must join a private polar expedition with an ice-strengthened vessel, knowing full well that, despite spending tens of thousands of dollars, they may still not set foot on the island.
Bouvet is a lesson in humility: the Earth decides whether you arrive.
4. Pitcairn Island — Where History Still Lives
Far out in the South Pacific lies Pitcairn Island. This volcanic patch of green belongs to the United Kingdom and is the last surviving British Overseas Territory in the Pacific. It sits far southeast of Tahiti and west of Easter Island. With no airstrip and no dock, the only way to reach it is by supply ship from Mangareva in French Polynesia, followed by a longboat transfer through rolling surf.
The difficulty is not just distance but unpredictability. Rough seas can prevent landing for days, leaving travelers floating nearby with no guarantee of being able to step ashore. Only 200–300 people reach Pitcairn each year, drawn by its singular history as the settlement of the HMS Bounty mutineers and their Polynesian companions.
Visitors come to experience a living anthropological time capsule: a tiny community, a genealogy stretching back to a legendary event, and a landscape that is both wild and intimate. For those who wish to go, the path begins in Tahiti, continues to Mangareva, and ends with hope for calm seas and the courage to climb into a longboat when the ocean allows it.
5. Svalbard’s Northern Ice Edge — The Gateway to the Arctic Crown
Svalbard is a Norwegian archipelago halfway between mainland Norway and the North Pole. Its settlements, especially Longyearbyen, are among the northernmost inhabited places on Earth. However, the true frontier lies even farther north, where the sea meets the shifting pack ice of the polar ocean. This is where Earth begins to freeze into silence.
The danger here is real: polar bears roam freely, weather swings with almost animal instinct, and drifting ice can trap or crush a ship. Only a few thousand travelers reach this northern frontier each year, typically through expedition vessels equipped for Arctic navigation.
People travel here not for thrill-seeking, but out of an almost existential curiosity: the desire to witness the world at its most primal. To go, you must join an authorized Arctic expedition. Safety briefings cover polar bear protocols, cold-weather survival, and ice navigation. The destination is never guaranteed as the ice always decides how close you can get.
6. The Danakil Depression — The Furnace of Earth
In northeastern Ethiopia, near the borders of Eritrea and Djibouti, lies the Danakil Depression, a landscape forged by fire. It sits atop a tectonic triple junction, where the African, Somali, and Arabian plates pull apart. This rifting creates a terrain of volcanic chimneys, sulfur pools glowing neon yellow and green, endless salt flats, and the infamous Erta Ale lava lake.
The Danakil is one of the hottest places on Earth, with temperatures regularly exceeding 120°F (49°C). Heatstroke, dehydration, toxic gas, and volcanic instability make it inherently dangerous. It is a place where the planet feels young and restless, where the ground itself seems to move and breathe.
A few thousand visitors attend each year, typically accompanied by armed escorts and professional guides as the area has long been politically tense and, at times, unstable. Yet travelers come for the rawness; the feeling of walking on a living Earth. No solo travel is allowed. Visitors join convoys, hydrate obsessively, and learn to respect the land’s volatility. To go is to accept that comfort is optional and vigilance is necessary.
7. The Sea Cliffs of the Faroe Islands — Nature’s Cathedrals
The Faroe Islands, an autonomous territory within the Kingdom of Denmark, rise sharply from the North Atlantic between Iceland and Norway. Their most dramatic sea cliffs are these immense walls of basalt, carved by millions of years of storms, which are only accessible by boat and only when the ocean grants permission. The danger lies in the sea itself. Swells can lift a boat like a toy. Fog can erase visibility in seconds. Even seasoned Faroese captains refuse to attempt the journey on days when nature is restless.
Only a few hundred people each year manage to reach the base of these cliffs. Those who do often describe it as standing inside nature’s cathedral. The scale, the echoing wind, and the sense of insignificance: these elements, together, create a spiritual experience disguised as geography. Travelers typically fly into Vágar Airport and coordinate with local boat operators who decide daily, sometimes hourly, whether departure is safe. This is one of the rare destinations where “maybe” is part of the itinerary.
8. Antarctica’s Dry Valleys — A Martian Silence
The McMurdo Dry Valleys, located in Victoria Land along the western edge of Antarctica’s Ross Sea, are among the most inhospitable places on Earth. Although Antarctica has no sovereign owner, access to the Dry Valleys is typically granted through U.S. or New Zealand scientific stations.
These valleys have remained dry for millions of years. There is almost no life, no vegetation, and almost no scent or sound. Standing here feels like stepping onto Mars: a world of rock, ice, silence, and wind. Only a few hundred people enter the Dry Valleys each year, primarily scientists. The danger is extreme isolation and an environment that offers no forgiveness. Equipment failure can become life-threatening. Rescue depends entirely on the weather, which may not cooperate.
Travelers who manage to visit usually join authorized scientific expeditions or charter flights through Antarctic logistics organizations. The experience is as emotional as it is physical: a confrontation with silence vast enough to alter the shape of thought.
The Psychology Behind the Impossible: Why People Go
The people drawn to these destinations are not chasing adrenaline; they’re chasing meaning. These journeys offer something ordinary life can’t: a confrontation with scale, with self, with the edges of human capability. Extreme remoteness heightens memory, intensifies emotion, and deepens one’s sense of identity. These destinations demand presence. They pull a person into an experience where the brain shifts from autopilot into full awareness.
People go because they want to feel alive in a way that modern life often fails to provide. They want a story that expands them. They want proof, sometimes private, sometimes profound, that they are capable of stepping into the unknown.
This is the kind of bucket list experience that doesn’t just give you a place; it gives you a transformation.
If You Want to Go — Where to Begin
The first step isn’t choosing the destination. It’s clarifying the longing behind it. Are you seeking solitude? Scale? A brush with nature at its most primal? An experience that forces your brain into a new gear? Once you identify the yearning, the logistics follow.
Are you capable physically and mentally? Once you begin researching the conditions, environments, and physical requirements, discuss them with your doctors and possibly a therapist. Next, check with your state department to understand travel advisories, terrorist activities, and diplomatic relations with any region you may be traveling to or through. Often, the risks posed by people can be greater than those from climate or geography.
You should begin researching the trip details 12–24 months in advance, especially for polar or remote island expeditions. You may need to apply and be accepted into sanctioned travel groups or research organizations to be allowed access to certain areas. You accept that timetables may shift, that weather cancels plans without apology, and that discomfort is part of the story. Specialized evacuation insurance becomes essential. Guides who know the terrain become nonnegotiable. And you prepare for the truth that the journey will change you in ways you cannot predict.
These destinations are not easy. That is the point. Their difficulty is the crucible in which meaning is formed.