A 18th century graveyard and its astonishing cortege of macabre iconography.

The Metropolitan Police refurbished the blue box (perhaps not coincidentally) the same year "Doctor Who" returned to TV screens.

Hidden on a cobblestone street in Glasgow, a Czech Cajovna-inspired teahouse serves as a hangout for Bohemians.

Early Medieval stones sit on display at the beautiful Govan Old Church in Glasgow.

The elaborate clockwork contraptions in this Scottish gallery create small worlds of whimsy and horror.

A scattered trail of street art adds a pop of color to the city's stark structures.

The fountain marks the area where hundreds of accused witches were burned at the stake.

Thanks to modern navigational tools we now know that the true prime meridian runs through a park next door.

One part local history, 99 parts gruesome haunted house.

The quaint little store that is said to have inspired a famous Dickens novel was only given its name after the book was released.

A student driver's nightmare.

Catacombs turned marketplace.

The castle still holds traces of the abandoned Roman fort it was built atop.

Recently restored menagerie of Victorian-era beasts.

A harem-inspired Moorish fantasy design in a Victorian-era Welsh castle.

High Victorian fantasy created a fairytale castle out of a ruined fortress in Wales.

A rocky sea serpent hides caves, blowholes, and a spectacular natural bridge.

Three bridges straddle a stream, one stacked upon the other.

Near the former site of numerous witch burnings, this lavish Edinburgh mainstay pays homage to Scotland's brutal history.

Anonymously sculpted and donated, these sculptures made from poetry books and pages are sprinkled around the city.

An American ghost town hides along a side street in Scotland's capital.

This historic pub has maintained much of its 1906 decor, including a small sequestered room for women, where orders were slipped through a tiny window.

This allegedly haunted 16th-century tower house-turned-museum exhibits thousands of spectacular objects.

This otherwise ordinary close on the Royal Mile constituted the end of the world for Edinburgh’s poorest residents.