A black sand beach where glacial fragments wash ashore and look like sparkling diamonds.

This valley of hot springs and boiling mud pots is home to the record-holding "Geysir," which originated the English word.

The picturesque birthplace of Icelandic democracy is drenched in the blood of its brutal past.

If a glacial river suddenly diving into a sheer chasm via a dramatic, multi-stage waterfall isn't peak Iceland, it's certainly close.

Inside this Icelandic greenhouse, geothermal energy keeps tomatoes warm and growing.

One of the tallest buildings in Iceland, and perhaps, the most visually impressive.

Iceland's tribute to its thankless civil servants.

This tiny museum's sizable collection is jammed into a former underground public toilet.

An encyclopedic collection of mammal penises.

A bit of the Berlin Wall was gifted to the Icelandic capital to commemorate the 25th anniversary of German reunification.

This boat represents the promise of undiscovered territory, a dream of hope, and progress and freedom for Iceland.

This stunning concert hall has become a symbol of Iceland's national recovery.

This earthwork installation sits on a grassy hill, celebrating Iceland's past and present.

Try not to get slimed in Tribeca.

Wall Street has a new heroine, a bronze statue of a small but fierce girl.

This cemetery has graves dating back to the 17th century, including the city's oldest carved tombstone and an ominous cryptogram.

Pulled from the rubble of one of the worst modern tragedies, a steel crossbeam became a symbol of hope for New Yorkers.

A curious friendship between two inanimate ladies.

A Victorian cemetery in the heart of Brooklyn remains a popular mecca of morbid curiosity.

The site of a fallen tree that protected Americans from British forces during the American Revolution.

This city park was once a lookout point for George Washington’s army during the Battle of Brooklyn in 1776.

This striking arch, one of the first architectural elements constructed in Prospect Park, was recently restored to its original glory.

Abandoned blast furnaces are an enduring reminder of Scranton's once booming iron business.

The train collection of an eccentric New England seafood mogul is now a National Historical Site.