Places Melanicholia Wants to Go

These hellish-looking cliffs in the Canadian Arctic have been burning for centuries.

A little-visited ghost town state park offers a glimpse into Montana’s "Silver Queen."

This angular Dwarven tunnel cuts through a mountainside in Glacier National Park.

This beautiful ancient site is dotted with perforated sandstone pillars considered sacred by some Native American groups.

The rocks of a certain area of Butte, Montana give off a musical ring when hit.

The highest point in Montana is as rugged and singular as the state itself.

An outlandish shoe shaped house built by an eccentric millionaire.

In the bowels of a 19th-century brewery lurks a fine-dining restaurant offering an array of themed feasts.

Hellam Township is reputed to feature seven remote gates, which when passed through in the right order, open an entrance to hell.

The enormous 250-room Vanderbilt mansion conceals hidden doors and secret passageways.

A bizarre house filled with an astounding array of collections.

When King Oswald was killed in battle, an eagle dropped his arm here creating a new spring.

An enormous, inside-out glass globe built in 1935.

A toxic ghost town sitting atop a massive coal fire.

Centuries later, the victims of Great Britain's greatest hysteria are finally being remembered.

The only diamond mine in the world where you can keep what you find.

This centuries-old hotel hides a network of secret cellars and passages once used by smugglers.

She become one of the first women to serve in the United States military by secretly dressing like a man.

Each winter this underground cave forms a dazzling ice palace.

An early Portuguese serial killer's head is alarmingly well preserved in a jar at the University of Lisbon.

This natural wonder drops 16 stories straight down through rare flora and streaming waterfalls.

This 170-year-old Swiss guesthouse built into the side of a mountain is best accessed by a cable car.

A cavernous three-story, 43,800-square-foot basement that was forgotten about for 60 years.

This otherwise ordinary close on the Royal Mile constituted the end of the world for Edinburgh’s poorest residents.