Places SomersetGirl Wants to Go

A quiet, semi-secret square with statues of Mahatma Gandhi, Virginia Woolf, and a conscientious objectors stone.

An intricately designed junk art house with four extravagant junk art cars hidden in the suburbs.

Roadside attraction with more than 1,000 stuffed and mounted animal skins displayed in simulated natural habitats with hand-painted backdrops.

This 25-foot-tall gorilla made his way from the Wildwood boardwalk to a Pine Barrens gas station and deli.

Outside the Missouri Quilt Museum, this large spool has more than one million yards of thread—and counting.

This modern medieval weapon of war was built to toss pumpkins.

Associated with the famous wizard, it is said that when this oak tree falls, so will the town.

A monument to the center of the North American continent may be off by a few miles.

Early Medieval stones sit on display at the beautiful Govan Old Church in Glasgow.

These medieval tunnels provided water to the city above through centuries of civil war and plague.

The corporeal remains of Napoleon III's dentist rest under this 15-story obelisk.

The castle still holds traces of the abandoned Roman fort it was built atop.

Atop this arch, during the 16th-century, a sermon was given to those suffering from plague.

Legend says this demonic carving inside a medieval cathedral was one of Satan's minions.

London's first edible insect farm offers facility tours and cooking classes.

The only tower of an aerial tramway standing over a ski-lift.

The view that inspired the scenes of Dracula's first landing in England.

An early 20th-century bullring converted into a modern shopping center.

During the heyday of fishing in Hastings, there were more than 100 of these storage facilities.

A dark Victorian well house now plays host to mystical waters and pagan shrines.

The tale of this reverend and his parish is colorful in many a way.

A historic, reportedly haunted pub that provided inspiration for several famous adventure novels.

Nestled atop a wind-swept crag in the Scottish Highlands is a lonely memorial to a beloved hiker.

Today, Kent's medieval monarchs hold court on a busy pedestrian thoroughfare—or at least their statues do.