The mortal remains of an estimated 70,000 people lie in the basement of a monastery in Lima, Peru.

The intricate stonework of Machu Picchu serves as a testament to Incan engineers.

This bustling Italian plaza is built on the ruins of an ancient Roman amphitheater.

The only visible reminders of an elaborate engineering project that kept the tower from reaching the tipping point.

The incorrupt tongue of the patron saint of lost things is venerated in this basilica.

This breathtaking monastery was established by Saint Benedict himself 1,500 years ago.

The walls and streets of the ancient city are peppered with penises.

A slightly creepy gallery of plaster cast models in the same museum as Michelangelo's David.

One of the world's oldest working clocks is curiously missing the Zodiac sign of Libra.

The martyr's wax-enhanced skeletal remains lie preserved in a glass case in the Santa Maria della Vittoria in Rome.

Go inside to really appreciate this 500-year-old technological masterpiece.

Jesus' footprints and the first catacombs in the world.

This quaint Italian town keeps losing ground as the sides of its plateau slowly erode.

The last moments of the ill-fated Pompeiians, frozen forever in plaster.

2300-year-old Roman road connecting the empire.

The yawning maw of this pagan visage is said to bite off the hands of liars.

Though strikingly beautiful, Seattle's other railway station is now largely forgotten.

A giant Troll lurks under one of Seattle's oldest bridges.

A 100-year-old purveyor of curiosities, curios, and kitsch featuring mummies, shrunken heads, and a Fiji Mermaid.

A walk through the historic city center, under the streets of Seattle.

A vista of the city and sea from atop the little-known viewing deck on an unassuming Columbus statue.

The iconic boulevard is the perfect place to catch sight of a bicycling skeleton, a levitating Satan, or a chef with his head stuck in a pizza.

Construction of Barcelona's iconic (but controversial) church is expected to be completed in 2026—a century after the death of its architect.

The stones that traveled from Spain to eventually become a holy place for San Francisco's nature worshippers.