Places chrissyml Wants to Go

A museum of carnival attractions where you are invited to ride the rides.

This charming cobbled backstreet is the most Instagramable street in Paris, much to the residents' annoyance.

This 1,300 year old monastery built atop a single rock was once only accessible depending on the whims of the tide.

The oldest stone house in Paris was built by its most famous alchemist.

A horde of stray cats rule in this secluded Parisian cemetery under a bridge.

This iconic Parisian bookstore doubles as the "Tumbleweed Hotel" for traveling writers.

Notorious artist squat renovated into legal studios.

Abandoned railway line circling the city of Paris.

This massive library holds what was once the largest book collection in the world.

France's most famous cemetery, with some of its most curious tombs.

The vast, legendary catacombs hold secrets much stranger than stacked bones.

One of the first amphibian migration tunnels in the United States encourages a tradition that has inspired Amherst residents for decades.

In October 1856, Harriet Tubman escaped arrest at this site while attempting to reunite an enslaved woman named Tilly with her fiancé.

This shifting North Carolina sand dune is an odd little desert surrounded by oceanic forest life.

The North Carolina grounds are leased in perpetuity to the British Commonwealth for as long as the WWII sailors are buried there.

This historic sunny-yellow building has an unfortunate connection to the sinking of the Titanic.

This environmental engineering marvel keeps salt water from the Elizabeth River.

The highest point in North Carolina and the United States east of the Mississippi River, Mount Mitchell is named after argumentative explorer Elisha Mitchell.

This giant iron playfully pays tribute to an early 20th-century architectural trend.

An ornate abandoned schoolhouse hidden in the woods near a decaying mill town.

The two locations of this landmark ice cream shop scream pure Americana nostalgia.

Take a stroll through this centuries-old tunnel of enormous moss-hung evergreens, nestled among the grounds of America’s first public sculpture garden.

Most historians agree that the so-called "Gentleman Pirate" wasn't much of either of those things.

This small memorial is almost as well concealed as Smalls himself was on the night he sailed to freedom.