Places BrandyBacon Wants to Go

In the 19th century, this was the center of Boston's Black community.

A Harvard-area eatery preserves the uncovered tiles of its century-old predecessor.

These impressively detailed battle scenes depict the violence and tragedy of war in miniature.

The statue of John Harvard isn't actually John Harvard—or even, technically, the founder of the school.

A remnant of the 19th-century dream to discourage people from drinking booze by offering them water.

Around 160 years ago, this spot marked the location of a wharf along the shores of the Charles River.

One of the last remaining movie theatres in the country that features a rear-projection system.

A freighter full of exotic animals ends a harrowing voyage impaled on uncharted rocks in the Boston Harbor.

Once a kitschy symbol for a gift shop, this 38-foot seahorse is now a staple roadside attraction.

Every December the Wannalancit Mills lights a Christmas Tree over the old mill's smokestack.

The scarce remains of a sunken ship peek out from the sand on East Beach.

Millions of numbers carved in glass represent the tattoos forced upon victims.

Try a classic Necco candy bar being resurrected in a small suburban shop.

A plaque marking the famous abolitionist's birthplace often overlooked by visitors to the nearby Charles Sumner House.

This site commemorates the former inn and restaurant where the chocolate chip cookie was first crafted.

This exhibit is one of the largest and most well-preserved collections of Jurassic-era trackways in the United States.

The monumental steeple on Amherst College's campus has no church attached to it.

The home of a famed utopian science fiction author has been preserved long after his predicted future in the year 2000.

A quaint museum nestled in a former hub of Irish moss harvesting.

The only certified Trappist brewery outside of Europe hides in the central Massachusetts hills.

A daybeacon pyramid is about all that's left of this island that is said to have sunk due to a pirate's curse.

America's "second most important bell" is a contentious spoil of the Civil War.

In a town that's had a whole lot of giant chairs this one still stands tall, just not the tallest.

In order to save this beloved rock, locals blew it up and put it back together piece by piece.