Places leilat Wants to Go

Nearly four centuries after its founding, remnants of one of the oldest planned communities in North America are still visible in southern Brooklyn.

An easily overlooked stretch of ornate window fronts and gaslight lamps that could be right from the pages of Dickens.

The bizarre headgear looks like it was made for a fool, not a king.

Artists have long been drawn to these atmospheric 12th-century ruins.

This Victorian graveyard in Leeds is a macabre collection of beautiful tombs and memorials.

One of the oldest anatomical theaters in the U.S. still in use was once the site of an infamous cadaver riot.

A 200-year-old bar with a cheeky name claims to have served Edgar Allan Poe his final drink.

The man who first patented the Ouija board rests in peace beneath a headstone that playfully reflects that achievement.

The site where Poe “in great distress, and ... in need of immediate assistance” likely died.

Crammed into a Baltimore row house is an oddities shop that sells everything from skulls to dead insects.

It’s not hard to see why the historic Peabody Conservatory of Music’s library has been described as a “cathedral of books.”

An unassuming rod in the Netherlands was once the old standard unit of length for the entire Dutch empire.

A disconnected rotary phone for "calling" lost loved ones offered a unique way of dealing with grief in disaster-stricken Japan.

Built just after the American Revolution, the oldest row house in New York City still stands in Chinatown.

An abandoned hotel in the highlands of Bali is shrouded in stories of ghosts, curses, and corruption.

The fairy tale castle of the “fairy-tale king,” this was also the inspiration for Disney’s “Sleeping Beauty.”

A dilapidated dock tells the story of Titanic’s missed arrival.

This unmarked and unloved Manhattan subway grate created one of the most iconic images in American cinema.

Touching mementoes from those who didn't make it back from World War I still hang in one of New York's oldest bars.

A strangely angled West Village home is the only monument to an explosion that took the lives of three American revolutionaries.

Built hundreds of years ago this downtown iron barrier once protected a much despised king.

Down a stairway in the East Village, you could once read a plaque describing an alternate history of a fictional version of Manhattan.

Where now stands a 42-story condominium tower of marble, glass and steel was once the central market of New York’s slave trade.

The first car-centric shopping plaza in the U.S. brought a little bit of Spain to downtown Kansas City.