Places wnsos Wants to Go

This craggy boulder is fabled to be either a druidic relic or Satan's stumbling block.

The "shampooer of kings" who opened London's first curry cafe was a celebrity in the 19th century, but is all but forgotten now.

A metal tree emits eerie, melodic notes on top of Lancashire's Crown Point.

This picturesque view of the Scottish Borders was beloved by Sir Walter Scott.

A succinct inscription commemorates the ebb and flow of a woman's life.

A museum devoted to the science of color.

This witch statue remembers a time in England's history when fear trumped truth.

The photographs of "fairies" that fooled much of the world (including the creator of Sherlock Homes) were taken at this English stream.

The remains of the concrete ship can be seen during low tide.

A lone pole once used to display a man's corpse now stands empty, but the memory remains.

St. Mary's Asylum was isolated and abandoned before being converted into a Bed and Breakfast.

Giant, pink stuffed rabbit on an Italian mountain.

This innocuous-seeming building is actually the remnant of a major wartime brothel.

The floorboard scrawling of a tragic madman is on public display outside a Paris hospital, much to the dismay of its opponents.

Saintly bones pressed into a wax effigy of a Catholic superstar.

The headless bodies of more than 1,300 guillotined victims of the Reign of Terror are buried here in mass graves.

A popular shrine where the Blessed Virgin allegedly appeared in 1830, displaying a holy armchair and two incorruptible remains of Lady Saints.

Pitié-Salpêtrière was the dumping grounds for women who received the dreaded diagnosis of "hysterical."

In the best of all possible worlds, everyone will get a chance to see this statue in which Voltaire's heart is interred.

A font of vintage porn on the silver screen.

Remains of Roman amphitheater hidden in a sleepy quarter of Paris.

Dedicated to the art of hunting, with juxtapositions of contemporary art.

Where the high court feasted, frolicked, and high courtesans put their royal lovers' diamonds to the test.

This Parisian café sticks almost exclusively to an ethos of reuse.