Places BroRo Wants to Go

A vast array of tropical plants collected by a vacationing couple.

This 1836 church, constructed by formerly enslaved people, honors a leader in Afrocentric music.

One of Frank Lloyd Wright's greatest—and favorite—architectural masterpieces was almost lost.

A forsaken wonder in the middle of the East Side neighborhood.

Created by four famous men, the beautifully designed Buffalo State Asylum was resurrected as a hotel and art center, but still boasts a ghost story or two.

An unprepossessing stone marks the last resting place of one of the most accomplished Native Americans in history.

The absurd creation is a compulsory destination for selfies in Buffalo.

Once the "Eighth Wonder of the World," this iron railroad bridge was decimated by a tornado.

An abandoned tuberculosis hospital moulders on into an uncertain future.

This museum pays tribute to the largest group in the Iroquois Confederacy.

This abandoned bridge to nowhere stands secluded in the woods of a Cleveland suburb.

The Birthplace of the Englishman who founded the A.C. Milan football club.

A curious urban windmill once owned by a renowned British mathematical physicist.

These 90-year-old murals of local kings, Vikings, and outlaws hide in plain sight in a beautifully baroque shopping arcade.

A 15th-century former coaching inn forms the implausibly grand entrance to a 1980s shopping mall.

The English Civil War began right here in 1642.

This lonely memorial marks the supposedly haunted site of a brutal 19th-century murder.

When it came to designing his own small office building, the eccentric architect wasn't afraid to show the world what he could do.

Hidden in a grotto 26 feet below Nottingham's oldest hotel, this stylish subterranean drinking den is notoriously hard to find.

A New Hampshire grave with a grudge.

A 12,000-year-old bog boasting rare plants and fauna.

The ghost town that was one of New Hampshire's first settlements now exists as a park detailing its history.

This former hub for crafty philosophers was founded by a writer who died aboard the infamous RMS Lusitania.

The aggressively banal name of this underground fortress of bureaucracy does little to evoke its truly surreal existence.