Places Brett Iredell Wants to Go

This narrow coastline trail through the dense Kauai wilderness is among the most beautiful and dangerous in the world.

An opal mining town in the middle of Australia where people live, worship, and shop underground.

This gracefully curving formation looks like a massive wave that was suddenly turned to stone.

The oldest surviving botanic garden in the United States.

One of the oldest living oak trees in the Southeast.

The lost American era of gunfighters, bandits, Indians and steam trains is recreated in Sweden.

This former theme park in New York's Adirondack Mountains fell into ruin before being resurrected as a state-run campground

Marking the spot where a conquistador gave up his search for the fabled Seven Cities of Gold.

This erect, phallic geological spire wasn't always named so domestically.

The hundreds of movies and television shows shot in this high desert town are commemorated in a unique museum.

The first life claimed by this record-breaking peak wasn't lost to exposure or a fall, but rather lightning.

These millipedes glow not out of attraction, but as a not-too-subtle warning.

This waterfront museum in Maine is dedicated to the history of the smoked-herring trade.

The gorgeous entrances into the city's underbelly look more like grand halls than subway stops.

This cavernous abandoned marble mine is popular with ice skaters in the winter.

The overgrown ruins of a once thriving World War I-era copper mine.

The oldest orange tree in California spawned a generation of citrus farmers.

The "first cat," "first dog," and even a presidential pygmy hippo all get their due in this museum.

A beautiful oddities shop crammed with strange and morbid curiosities.

Western Europe's only representation of a Roman goddess still in its original location sits in an unassuming park.

London's creepiest cemetery was once the site of dueling magicians and mobs of stake-carrying vampire hunters.

The wartime prison now features haunting sculpted reenactments of the atrocities that took place there.

It took 82 years and four different plaques to finally get the story right.

The remains of a community that was forced to move for a dam that never materialized still rot in this Pennsylvania park.