Built in 1870 at the bridge that connected Buda and Pest, this spectacular incline railway was almost lost forever during World War II.

This Hungarian castle was built out of cardboard and wood until it proved so popular that it got upgraded to stone.

This indoor ski resort has a mountain contained inside a mall.

A faithful reproduction of Al-Jazari's enormous water clock.

A preposterously luxurious hotel with gold-plated iPads, Rolls Royce chauffeurs, and a staff that trains by watching "Downton Abbey."

This artificial archipelago was supposed to resemble a map of the world.

On any given day this sprawling market houses literally tons of government-regulated gold, gems, and precious metals.

Macabre astrological automaton clock dating to the late 1400s.

3,000 market stands in five former Zeppelin hangars.

A black cat protests the City Guild in Riga's Old Town.

An alien church provides much needed silence in the midst of a Finland shopping center.

This man-made mound monument was built out of soil from all across the Polish empire.

This Polish cave has housed a dragon, a brothel, and an enduring legend.

This ancient Greek place of assembly and marketplace is being revealed layer by layer below the modern Athens cityscape.

Monasteries on rock pillars, once accessible only by frayed ropes.

An unusual bronze bus shelter is actually an art installation commenting on the city's history with the Nazi party.

Countless grotesque faces stare out from this eerie Prague art wall.

Despite attempts by local police to discourage it, Beatles-inspired graffiti has been a means for artists to air grievances for decades.

This automated sculpture of two men peeing will spell out text messages with their micturition.

The hidden lair of an alchemist rediscovered in a 2002 flood.

A surreal statue honoring Prague's favorite literary son.

What looks like a suicide in progress is actually a statue of Sigmund Freud.

This tipsy office building in downtown Prague was originally called “Fred and Ginger.”

A bust of Franz Kafka spins in pieces, reflecting the writer's inner torment.