Places hymeneinstein Wants to Go

Hidden on the urban banks of a Manchester river are a series of abandoned waterside industrial sites.

A hunk of prehistoric lava rests amid the Gothic architecture of a campus quad.

Stone slabs along the coast warn of Japan's tsunami-ravaged past, often marking the highest point of a wave's reach.

The ruins of a grand theater destroyed during the most powerful seismic catastrophe ever recorded.

The Tudor-style cottage in the middle of the square is not quite what it seems.

A tiny traditional village keeps an ancient method of beekeeping alive.

A grotesque Fiji merman dwells within this traditional Dutch-style building.

This folk art compound was built by a fortune teller on the advice of three people from the future.

A remnant of Korea's colonial past lies forgotten in a hip neighborhood in Seoul.

This amazing abuela became a diehard metal fan late in life and an icon of Madrid's '80s rock scene.

The symbol was surreptitiously built into the river bank by German prisoners of war.

The abandoned military base looks like a post-apocalyptic wasteland.

Enchanting gardens surround a derelict mansion, all hidden in plain sight behind a stone wall.

This Transylvanian church has changed its denomination four times.

This elaborately decorated, fairytale-like Romanian royal palace is one of the most striking castles in Europe.

A fire once nearly devoured this gorgeous 14th-century Gothic cathedral.

There's an old indoor swimming pool hidden directly underneath the White House Press Briefing Room.

A lonely beacon, precariously perched atop a remote sliver of rock.

A magical expanse of colorful street murals lies hidden within the quiet neighborhood.

A colorful public mural in San Antonio's West Side encourages students to stay in school.

One of the oldest used bookstores in the U.S. has been selling antiquarian treasures since 1825.

This rare example of a "tidefall" is a spectacular drop from the cliffs down onto the beach.

A baffling beast so absurd a town councilman called it "intellectual vomit in technicolor."

The whimsical twist of this spire was either caused by the Devil, an unexpected virgin, or lead.