Smallest house in Toronto sits on a lot meant to be just wide enough for cars to drive through.

A collection of human remains, animal body parts, and other macabre curiosities all legally for sale.

This Toronto garden collects stares and tchotchkes in equal measure.

A fake block of cheese remembers a feat of dairy engineering from the Chicago World's Fair.

The remains of a paranoid inventor's hidden workshop lie in beautiful ruins amidst a Canadian park.

This Hindu temple is an architectural marvel designed and built according to ancient Indian principles.

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

Quite possibly the last cross all humans will ever see.

Western New York's largest independent bookstore doubles as a historical repository of all things Niagara Falls.

A forsaken wonder in the middle of the East Side neighborhood.

A quirky collection of outsider art made from automobile parts.

The Pennsylvania landscape depicted by a quarter mile of mosaics made from used road signs.

Once connected to the outside world by a single train track, this ghost town is looked after by the National Park Service.

One of the most poignant ruins of the Chernobyl nuclear disaster, the local football team's stadium has been quickly reclaimed by nature.

This derelict superstructure was a very important warning system for the Soviet military.

This attraction was abandoned after the Chernobyl disaster.

The ghost town left by the worst nuclear disaster of all time is being taken over by nature and urban explorers.

In Portugal, a secluded stretch of untouched natural beauty hides at the bottom of a steep hill.

Witnesses claim the Virgin Mary statue outside the church once mysteriously shed a single tear.

This cavern was used as a hidden hospital and safe house during the Vietnam War.

The notorious "Hanoi Hilton" where Vietnamese colonial subjects and later American POWs, including John McCain, were imprisoned.

Ho Chi Minh's perfectly preserved body has been on display here since 1975.

The spot in the Mile-High City that's exactly 5,280 feet above sea level (at least for now).

The remains of the dam that unleashed a 15-foot wall of water on Denver.