This knobby, drooping New Orleans oak is a favorite place both for climbing and for meeting giraffes.

The second oldest continuously operating bar in Louisiana.

According to one local tradition, the entrance to the Voodoo underworld can be found in New Orleans through seven gates scattered throughout the city's French Quarter.

This historic "City of the Dead" lies prominently in the center of New Orleans' famous Garden District.

The curiosities and wonders of pharmacy in a delightful historic building.

A collection of oddities including Dr. Kevorkian's suicide device, the Thanatron.

A museum and shop on Bourbon Street located in the former home of the second Voodoo Queen of New Orleans.

This New Orleans tree is filled with hidden chimes that produce a carefully tuned melody.

The oldest cemetery in New Orleans, resting peacefully for over 200 years now.

A 200-year-old bar in the historic French Quarter refuses to give up its place in history, nor its role in securing ours.

The final resting place of New Orleans' most famous voodoo priestess.

A snapshot of the city's fascinating voodoo culture.

A theme park that suffered massive flooding during Katrina was abandoned, and now proves irresistible to trespassing explorers.

The once abandoned ruins of a Victorian beachside amusement park are now back in working order.

After his presidency, George Washington planned to live only a few blocks from the Capitol building.

The only tennis court that falls under the jurisdiction of the central bank.

D.C. once had its own tiny rival to the New York Stock Exchange.

Disks are rolled out onto the south lawn to absorb the impact of Marine One's wheels like giant coffee coasters.

An 18-mile-long tunnel for sewage waste will soon wind within the bowels of Washington, D.C.

An ear-piercing buzzer calls lawmakers to a vote with a series of long and short rings to form coded messages.

This grisly headstone doesn’t seem to be resting in peace.

A promising candidate for the lost rock laid by George Washington was unearthed, but the hunt is still on.

A 1,100-ton train fell through the floor in 1953. Workers got it patched up in just 72 hours.

More than 500 unique and specially designed cases collected by D.C.'s "Harmonica Case Man."