The site of William McKinley's tragic assassination is only marked by an underwhelming boulder.

This tiny little island has, as the name says, just enough room for its single house.

One of many reminders of Tesla's scientific contributions overlooks the falls which inspired him.

A castle built for love, and abandoned due to heartbreak.

The third version of this tall sailing ship sits, rusted and burnt, in Lake Ontario.

This Niagara Falls tourist trap is a world bright with neon and curiosities that will inspire love, hate, or a mixture of both.

A grand Gothic Revival basilica with stained glass depictions of Montreal's religious history has only one soul resting in its crypt.

These WWII-era murals were initially booed as a libelous portrayal of the American dream but have survived multiple attempts to have them destroyed.

This shop and studio is dedicated to the art of the book, from letterpress to bookbinding.

The remains of a ruined mansion memorialize the 1906 earthquake.

A shop full of natural curiosities, carnivorous plants, and costumed taxidermied mice.

A collection of 20th-century automata, penny arcade games, and musical contraptions.

The seawater playground of gilded-era San Francisco burned to the ground in 1966.

The home, museum, and death site of Kodak's influential founder.

A 400-year-old church covered floor to ceiling in ex-voto offerings from the faithful.

This iconic Parisian bookstore doubles as the "Tumbleweed Hotel" for traveling writers.

An "inside out" building in the historical center of Paris, featuring Europe’s largest modern art museum.

A series of abstract, silly sculptures represent the works of a great modern classical composer.

The palace window through which Protestant nobles flung two Catholic regents, thus sparking the Thirty Years' War.

Around 100,000 bodies are buried below the medieval headstones, many of which mark graves with multiple bodies stacked up to 12 deep.

The slender brass strip in Prague's Old Town Square was used to tell time from 1652 to 1918.

Macabre astrological automaton clock dating to the late 1400s.

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.