A small island with no monkeys but plenty of military ruins.

An unexpected curiosity cabinet hidden within a department store in the Japan Post tower.

Children's literature inside, forest all around.

This sprawling scenic burial ground is the final resting place of Japan's last shogun.

White beach sands made of the remains of tiny, star shaped creatures.

This ruined Japanese stripclub sits half burnt to the ground.

Largest graveyard in all of Japan surrounds a famous mausoleum.

Giant animal sculptures are created with the rice straw leftover from the fall harvest each year.

Giant sand sculptures of famous people and places are on display near the Tottori sand dunes.

A rare festival blending religion, blacksmiths, vagina dentata, sex workers, and the straight-up facts of life.

The largest volcanic caldera in Japan holds an entire city in its maw.

Be a ninja - or just act like one.

Crawl through the hole in the middle of this stone to break off a bad relationship or initiate a good one.

Oddly touching memorial to a little-remembered nuclear tragedy.

These Japanese gardens are blankets of light for dark winter nights.

An unlikely hit, this museum is dedicated to the inventor of instant ramen and cup noodles.

A shrine contains nearly 200 statues of the Buddhist deity Jizo, dressed in bibs by parents who have lost a child.

This subterranean spot might be the epitome of Japan's baroque, retro coffee houses.

This retro underwater observation tower would make the perfect lair for a sea-loving villain.

Thirty architectural gems from the 19th- and early 20th-century Tokyo were restored and relocated to this space.

A tiny collection of traditional Japanese woodblock prints, open only when the owner feels like it.

Closed for decades, this strange symbol of Japan's Expo '70 has finally opened its psychedelic insides to the public.

Historical Japanese-Dutch relations are honored with haunted rides and flower fields in this replica town.

A remarkable lava formation encloses a line of Buddhist statues that can't be accurately counted, according to local mythology.