via Boston Public Library

There is no shortage of forgotten disasters, but few rival the 1919 Great Boston Molasses Disaster in the scope of its strangeness and the small memory of it in the place it totally destroyed.

Today is the 95th anniversary of the January 15, 1919 catastrophe, when a massive steel tank holding some 26 million pounds of molasses broken open, crashing a wave of sticky substance stretching up to 25 feet tall and 160 feet wide. It's a story that starts as an amusing anecdote — a sugary sea spreading through the streets — but quickly turns into a nightmare of almost unimaginable proportions. Moving at 35 miles per hour, the wave engulfed absolutely everything in its path, including people who were strolling through the afternoon streets on an unusually warm day. The legs of the elevated tracks were broken, houses and buildings were obliterated into shards, horses, as reported by the Boston Post, "died like so many flies on sticky fly paper."

In the aftermath, 21 people were dead, 150 injured, and rescue was exceeding slow, as of course molasses movement is known to be. The molasses seeped into the infrastructure, and even now on hot days people in the North End area claim to smell a whiff of molasses in the air. The disaster was at first blamed on anarchists — as disasters in early 20th century America tended to be — but was later revealed to be shoddy construction. 

In just a few years will be the hundred-year anniversary of the disaster, and it will be interesting to see if there are any major commemorations of the event. For now, all there is to remember the dead is a a small green plaque at the intersection of Foster and Commercial street. 

More details on the Great Boston Molasses Flood can be found here in our Morbid Monday feature on the "sweet death," as well as in our guide to food disasters. More images of the aftermath are below, courtesy the Boston Public Library.

via Boston Public Library

via Boston Public Library

via Boston Public Library

via Boston Public Library

via Boston Public Library

via Wikimedia

via Boston Public Library

via Boston Public Library 

Read more about food disasters in our anthology: Death by Food >

Neon cowboy in Laughlin, Nevada (photograph by Arturo Sotillo)

The 21st century American West — stretching across the Great Plains of the Dakotas to the deserts of Arizona and California — is a place where wooden longhorn steers sit atop steakhouses, neon cowboys encourage gamblers on the Vegas strip, and lone stars emblazon everything from flags to beer cans. All of this iconography is so familiar, so much a part of the cultural fabric, that it seems to have always existed, just like the sunsets and starscapes of the desert sky.

Many of these symbols have murky origins, informed by dime novels and movies as much as from historical facts. In the most self-aware scene in of one of the most famous movies about the American West, a reporter declares: “This is the West, sir, When the fact becomes legend. Print the legend.” The director of The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, John Ford, was one of the many Hollywood figures who helped create the mythology of the American West, and now it’s tough even for the best historians to untangle the truth from the legend. Even tougher, perhaps, is making an argument that the difference matters.

Yet every image has a tale to tell. 

HORSESHOES

Horseshoe nailed to a crossing sign (photograph by Stacy Clinton)

Horses made the rapid settlement of the North American continent possible and are so closely associated not only with white settlers, but also American Indians, that it’s easy to overlook the fact that the equines aren’t indigenous.

Horses arrived shortly after 1492, and soon became as important to many of the North American tribes as they were to the new settlers, whether they be Spanish or Northern European. The settlers also brought with them folklore that indicated that horseshoes, when nailed over doorways or on sailing masts, warded off evil spirits. Eventually, the evil spirits got downplayed and the horseshoe just became a totem of good luck, especially when pointing upwards. The shoes became ubiquitous throughout the Old West, above doors and tossed onto pegs in the eponymous game.

Donald Judd's "Monument to the Last Horse" in Marfa, Texas (photograph by Rob Zand)

LONE STARS

via Boston Public Library

The Texas flag, emblazoned with a singular star, gave birth to the state’s still prominent nickname — The Lone Star State. Whether on beer cans or barns, houses or hotels, the star is inextricably linked to to Texas.

In all likelihood, however, the tradition of decorating barns with five-pointed stars probably originated with German settlers in places like Fredericksburg and New Braunfels. Barn Stars are also traditional in Pennsylvania German architecture and likely have their origins in both pagan and Christian teutonic symbolism. German settlers brought many touches of home to Texas, especially in terms of architecture and food, which are still evident, but it's the barn stars that were most likely the inspiration for the Texas state symbol.

Southwest Airline's "Lone Star One" (photograph by Pieter van Marion)

LONGHORNS

Texas longhorn (photograph by foqus/Flickr user)

The Texas Longhorn, another animal that transformed the North American continent, can be seen in everything from the University of Texas mascot to steakhouse decor across the west. These rough and tumble steer, with their expansive horns, became central to the cattle drives from which so much of the lore of the Old West rose The cattle were imported to North America by the Spanish, and they were likely a cross between two different ancient breeds of European cattle. Thanks to their hardiness, longhorns could survive the long and grueling cattle drives across states like Colorado and Texas, and they became the reason cowboys, the very human embodiment of the Old West, were needed at all.

Longhorn statue in Johnson City, Texas (photograph by straight-nochaser/Flickr user)

COWBOY HAT 

Cowboy hats at the rodeo (photograph by Emilio Labrador)

The modern cowboy hat, known colloquially by its brand name Stetson, was first manufactured in Philadelphia 1865, long after the settlement of the West had begun. In fact, hatter John B. Stetson based his design off a hat he made for himself while panning for gold in Colorado. 

While there’s little doubt the Stetson hat, with its wide brim, became popular quickly, it was not the singular hat of the cowboy until the rise of Wild West shows and dime novels. Further solidified by Hollywood cowboys in the 1920s, the movies would have everyone believe that no other hat was ever worn west of the Mississippi River. Today, wearing a cowboy hat mainly signifies that a person has embraced country and Western music and culture, not necessarily that they are about to go out and drive some cattle.

A cowboy hat sign in Santa Rosa, New Mexico (photograph by Charles Henry)

CROSSES

A wooden cross tombstone (photograph by Woody Hibbard)

The simple cross marking the grave of a deceased person, usually on a hill, has often been cinematic shorthand for the harshness of the American West, and it's no myth, these tombstones were prominent in the West. 

In early colonial American life, gravestones were simple, stone markers with rounded tops and only occasionally had symbols carved in them. Unless the deceased was Roman Catholic, crosses almost never appeared on the stones as a motif. However, a lack of access to stone and a common need to bury people quickly and inexpensively caused the residents of the American West to invent a new way of marking graves — when they bothered to mark them at all. During times of lawlessness in places like Tombstone and Deadwood, the local residents regularly wound up with bodies that they needed to bury cheaply and quickly, and often without a funeral. Improvised graveyards, called Boothill Cemeteries, sprung up on the outskirts of towns. If someone bothered to fashion a marker, crosses were simple to make and could be fashioned from spare wood or whatever materials happened to be around. Eventually, these communities became more settled, and more formal cemeteries with traditional stone markers sprung up. Yet it was the makeshift Boothill Cemeteries that were used in dime novel illustrations and later in the movies. Today, people can visit Boothill cemeteries, but the crosses are often the sturdier replacements of the long gone originals, which were never really meant to be permanent.

Cemetery at Terlingua ghost town in Texas (photograph by Brandon Burns)

SAGUARO CACTUS

Saguaro cacti (via SonoranDesertNPS)

Distinctive for its tree-like height and protruding arms, the saguaro cactus only grows in the Sonoran desert of Arizona. However, their silhouettes instantly evoke images of the lone cowboy in the desert thanks to filmmakers who didn’t worry about accuracy and used saguaro cacti in movies that took place all over the West, from Texas to Nevada.

The saguaro grows slowly (as in 1.5 inches every ten years) and can live up to 150-200 years, although it is fragile and can only grow under specific conditions. Today the unique-in-the-world cactus has become shorthand for everything that is strange and wonderful about Arizona, appearing on neon signs, postcards, and t-shirts.

Neon cactus (photograph by sookie/Flickr user)

THE SIX SHOOTER

Grave of Wild Bill Hickock in Deadwood (photograph by Jennifer Kirkland)

Perhaps no other firearm is more closely associated with the American West than a six shooter revolver. Revolvers were first developed in the early 1800s, and by the end of the Civil War, the six shooter was practical and cheap and became the weapon of choice for legendary gunfighters like Wild Bill Hickok, who carried at Smith & Wesson No. 2 at the time of his death.

Although used elsewhere in the world at the time, the quick draw gunfight and gunfighter became such a part of the mythology of the West, that the revolve still evokes images of that time and place. In particular, the image of two crossed six shooters appears on t-shirts, in sculpture, and even on gravestones (including Hickok’s) across the West. 
[Image of Wild Bill Hickock’s grave]
[Black and White Image of Six Shooter]

Palau Nacional, Montjuïc, Barcelona (photograph by runner310/Flickr user)

After visiting Paris and Chicago, Atlas Obscura's tour of Worlds' Fair relics stops next in Barcelona, home to two world's fairs — one in 1888, and one in 1929.

For the citizens of Barcelona in 1888, the most notable feature of the fair was a certain landmark’s absence. A few years beforehand, the city had begun tearing down an old Spanish citadel dating from a war in the 1700s, when Barcelona was subsumed into the country of Spain. Barcelona’s citizens had long considered the Citadel as an unpleasant reminder of the war, and were eager to remove it; the de-construction had begun a hundred years prior. The fair gave Barcelona even more impetus to raze the building to clear space for fairgrounds.

Aerial view of the Exposición Universal de Barcelona in 1888 (via Wikimedia)

View of the Exposició Universal de Barcelona in 1888 (via Wikimedia)

Today, the Parc de la Ciutadella in Barcelona is laid out just as it was for the 1888 fair; Barcelona’s zoo reuses a number of World’s Fair buildings, and a Memorial Arch that served as the 1888 fair’s access gate lies nearby. Also, just as was the case in 1888, there are almost no traces of the citadel left.

Parc de la Ciutadella today (photograph by Jaume Meneses)

The arch in 1888 (via Wikimedia)

The Memorial Arch (photograph by Matti Mattila)

Barcelona placed another monument outside the Parc: the Columbus Monument, a 60-foot tower commemorating Christopher Columbus’ first voyage. It was meant to remind visitors that Columbus may have been working for King Philip and Queen Isabella — but that he met with them in Barcelona. The monument bears a series of bas-relief images depicting scenes from Columbus’ first voyage, and commemorates other members of Columbus’ expedition party; at the very top is a statue of Columbus heroically pointing out to sea. Inside the column is a viewing platform just beneath Columbus’ feet.

The Columbus Monument (photograph by Morgaine/Flickr user)

Barcelona’s Olympic Stadium is best known as the site of the 1992 Summer Olympics, but it was originally built for the 1929 World’s Fair to host a series of friendly exhibition games between Worlds’ Fair nations in various sports. Barcelona used its stadium as a selling point in its bid for the 1936 Summer Olympics, but lost to Berlin. The stadium then became home to a series of soccer teams before falling into disrepair in the 1970s. When Barcelona won its bid to host the 1992 Summer Olympics, the city renovated the stadium, but preserved the 1929 façade.

The stadium today (photograph by Kiko Alario Salom)

Inside the stadium (photograph by Emilio Garcia)

Grander still is the Palau Nacional, the fair’s main exhibition hall. Barcelona’s 1929 fair focused on the history of art, and the hall featured contributions from 5,000 artists and museums across Spain. The building also sported murals by Catalan artist Francesc d'Assís Galí, who, in his contract, was charged with depicting “the grandeur of Spain, justified in a symbolic composition defined by four fields; Religion, Science, the Fine Arts and Land.”Gali’s work adorns the inside of the central dome inside the Palau.

1929 Barcelona International Exposition (via Wikimedia)

The dome of the Palau Nacional (photograph by Maik-T. Šebenik)

The building itself was intended as a temporary structure, but was so striking in its own right that the National Art Museum of Catalonia took on the cost of restoration in order to make the building more permanent. The building still undergoes periodic restoration and preservation efforts, and is still home to the National Art Museum of Catalonia.

Stay tuned for more in our series on World's Fair relics, and be sure to visit Paris and Chicago. 

Eastern State Penitentiary (all photographs by Michelle Enemark unless indicated)

Earlier this month we launched our new Road Trip series of get-out-of-town adventures with a day of exploration in Philadelphia. Below are some photographs from this exciting new programming of our events branch — the Obscura Society. 

After departing New York City bright and early in the morning we started at the Mütter Museum. The medical history museum located at the College of Physicians is a treasure trove of anatomical specimens, from the skeleton of the tallest man in North America to slides of Einstein's brain. We started our visit with a talk on the "Science of the Sideshow" that looked at the real medical conditions behind the "giants," reptile-skinned people, bearded ladies, and other historic sideshow performers. 

Next we journeyed over to the Edgar Allan Poe National Historic Site, where the author lived in the 1840s and wrote such harrowing tales as "The Tell-Tale Heart" and was inspired by the odd bricked in space of the basement to imagine "The Black Cat." The rooms are bare and the paint has long ago peeled, but our excellent tour guide brought the place to moody life, even recounting some of the tales right in the places they were written.

Last stop was Eastern State Penitentiary. The 19th century prison was revolutionary in a "penitence"-minded system of reform, with an exterior like a foreboding fortress and an interior with skylights streaming down light like in a cathedral. Unfortunately, the system of solitary confinement where prisoners wore masks whenever they left their cells was far from effective, and that combined with later overcrowding resulted in Eastern State becoming obsolete. Then it was abandoned and turned into an urban forest before it opened in the 1990s as a museum. Still, though, it feels like a ruin, and our tour took us behind-the-scenes into some of its usually off-limits reaches. 

THE MÜTTER MUSEUM

Entering the Mütter Museum

Comparing hands with a cast of the hand of a giant

Learning about the Science Behind the Sideshow, the details of medical history in circus "freaks"

EDGAR ALLAN POE NATIONAL HISTORIC SITE

Exterior of the former home of Edgar Allan Poe (photograph by Allison Meier)

In the basement, which is said to have inspired "The Black Cat"

Poe mural across the street

Statue of "The Raven"

EASTERN STATE PENITENTIARY 

Exploring the prison, where rain made fog creep into the halls

Learning some of the history of the penitentiary, where inmates were initially kept completely isolated, only going outside in private exercise yards and wearing masks when they left their cells

Standing in the center of the prison's radial plan, a single guard could turn and monitor all the halls of cells

Rain in the exercise yard

Descending into the solitary cells

A tunnel that was once where prisoners were kept in solitary

The prison was abandoned for years, and plaster still crumbles from the walls

Moldering furniture in a cell (photograph by Allison Meier)

Fog dissipating in the air

One of the off-limits halls (photograph by Allison Meier)

The cell of Al Capone

View the cell of Al Capone

Light coming through skylights was intended to give the prison a spiritual tone

The old operating room in the prison

This hall is said to be the most haunted of the prison

Fog in the hallway

Outside Eastern State, with its fortress-like exterior 

 This is just the first of the road trips we plan to take through our events branch — the Obscura Society — so keep an eye on our events page to stay informed about future explorations. 

The Obscura Society is the real-world exploration arm of Atlas Obscura We seek out secret histories, unusual access, and opportunities for our community to explore strange and overlooked places hidden all around us. Join us on our next adventure!

All Upcoming Obscura Society Events

Facebook: Obscura Society San Francisco

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"NO BOCCE GAMES ALLOWED. LAWN BOWLING ONLY" declares a sign outside an arrangement of neatly trimmed lawns in San Francisco's Golden Gate Park. The warning to those practicing a less refined outdoor bowling game is just part of the over hundred-year traditions of one of the oldest sports organizations in the United States.

photograph by Nico Roicke

You might assume that the sports club tradition would be more storied for the hearty American sports of baseball or football, but in fact lawn bowling has just as deep a history in the country. The San Francisco Lawn Bowling Club held their first game in October of 1901. It was then known as the San Francisco Scottish Bowling Club, and according to Golden Gate Park it's now the oldest public club in the United States. 

Players in 1901 (via Todd Lappin)

The club in 1910 (via Todd Lappin)

While the Scottish community in the city had a big influence on the club, even using traditional wooden balls brought right over from Scotland for the first games, it was Scottish park superintendent John McClaren who gave the game such solid standing in the community. McLaren stated that: "This pleasant sport has been held in high repute in the British Isles and its introduction on this coast would be beneficial both to young and old alike as it combines an exercise with the pleasures of amusement." McClaren later became Vice President of the lawn bowling club. In 1912, a second court was added for women, and a third green later followed. 

The sport, also known as "bowls," has a history going back to at least the 13th century in Great Britain, and there are still hundreds of clubs in Scotland. It's not a speedy game or anything thrilling as a spectator sport, but players appreciate its meditative, skill-based competitiveness. It was actually so wildly popular in Britain that it was outlawed twice because people weren't getting much else done, although those rulings were never respected in Scotland. 

photograph by David Lytle

Aside from when a rebuild of the smooth lawns was necessitated by the 1906 earthquake, the lawn bowling in San Francisco has continued to this day. You can still see the players dressed in their crisp white uniforms, and on Wednesdays free lessons are offered to anyone looking for some of the Scottish sporting life. 

photograph by xeeliz/Flickr user

GOLDEN GATE PARK LAWN BOWLING CLUB, San Francisco, California

Curious Facts of the Week: Helping you build your cocktail party conversation repertoire with a new strange fact every week, and an amazing place to explore its story. See all the Curious Facts here>

Verrückt under construction (via theverruckt.com)

There's an adrenaline-fueled race underway as amusement companies battle to have the tallest, fastest, and most exhilarating rides in the world. In the next few years, we'll be seeing new contenders for the tallest water slide, tallest roller coaster, and tallest Ferris wheel. 

Considering the roller coaster "Golden Age" was only back a few decades at the end of the Great Depression, we've come a long way from the jittery wooden rides of Coney Island and other early amusement parks. Now everything just keeps getting taller, with records being surpassed before construction can even begin. This summer when the Schlitterbahn water park opens for the season in Kansas City, its centerpiece will be Verrückt. Its drone's-eye-view video boasts that it will be "taller than Niagara Falls," with riders speeding over 65 miles per hour. This staggering slide will thus beat out the previous record holder, the "Insano" slide in Brazil. "Verrückt" appropriately translates to "crazy" in German, although this sense of the extreme is less eloquently screamed on its site with the rhetorical question: RU INSANE?

Also on the horizon is the "Polercoaster," the new tallest roller coaster in the world, taking the thunder away from the Kingda Ka roller coaster at Six Flags Great Adventure in New Jersey. Planned to open in the spring of 2016  in a yet-to-be-determined location in Florida, it will stand some 520 feet, beating out Kingda Ka's 456 feet, and will cost a terrifying sum of between $20  and $60 million. 

The Dubai Eye (via thedubaieye.com)

Not to be outdone, there's also a battle of Ferris wheels, with neither of the contenders even built yet. When the Staten Island Ferris wheel was announced for a 2015 open date and a 625-foot height, it was ready to take the tallest title for the New York City borough. However, then the dream crushing Dubai Eye loomed into the ring, also with a 2015 date, and 689 feet. 

We're not quite to Euthanasia Coaster speeds of death of course, but it's hard to predict when the bubble for these harrowing amusements might burst. Both budgets and gravity seem to be pushed to their limits in a quest to, in the end, be the most entertaining. However, we know that nothing lasts forever, and today's glorious grandstand spectacles could be the next generation's ruins, but at least the decadence offers a hell of a ride for now. 

photograph by mbeo/Flickr user

"The mountains are calling and I must go..."

So said John Muir in 1873. And so have many people quoted him since. Climbers are drawn to the outdoors, to the unforgiving and yet loving touch of the rock on the human hand, to the sunshine that shines a little clearer and the leaves and the bark that are a little more colorful in the outdoors. However, despite Muir, it's not only mountains calling. 

Here are seven places you wouldn't expect to climb:

DIGA DEL LUZZONE
Blenio, Switzerland

photograph by Gattoarturo/Wikimedia

Artificial holds. A functioning dam. Outside. In the middle of Switzerland. This collection of seemingly unrelated words have found themselves thrown together in what could be one of the strangest man-made climbing sites. And it goes by the name of “Diga del Luzzone."

It’s a little beast of a climbing route affixed to a dam on the Luzzone Lake in the center of Switzerland. The five-pitch route, meaning several belay points, crawls up the unforgiving curve of the dam. The cost to climb is 20 Swiss francs, which gets you a ladder to reach the beginning of the first section of the climb.

photograph by Franco Pecchio

While this climbing anomaly may not offer the same rock-human connection as natural features — with that raw feeling of the rock —and despite the route’s flat and expansive exposure and lack of texture, it’s pretty clear that climbing the face of a Swiss dam offers a unique experience in and of itself. 

photograph by marcom/Flickr user 

ST. BENEDICT'S CHURCH
Manchester, England 

photograph by David Dixon

Although it’s not quite a dam, St. Benedict’s Church offers some equally heart-stopping creative climbs. 

When a local church was set to be demolished, a Manchester climber decided to do something about it. Instead of letting it be turned to rubble and be forgotten, John Dunne suggested it be transformed into a climbing gym. 

photograph by Neil Tilbrook

And that’s exactly what it became. Today, climbers can scale the 20 meter (65 foot) walls built within the narrow, but tall, sides of the church. Sometimes climbing gyms, often found in unexciting industrial warehouses, become run-of-the-mill. But using a church's natural height and beautiful natural lighting escapes the monotony. The stained glass windows and skeleton of the church remain intact — and the Manchester climbing gym may create a very new type of religious experience for climbers who enter its doors.

photograph by purplemattfish/Flickr user

MONTE RORAIMA
Guiana Highlands, South America

photograph by Paulo Fassina

Monte (or Mount) Roraima is on the natural end of climbable oddities. In the Guiana Highlands of South America, this mountain can claim to be in three countries: the peak of Monte Roraima shares the border with Venezuela, Brazil, and Guyana. Think of it as a higher-altitude, awesome, treacherous version of the Four Corners in the United States. However, due to the extreme difficulty on the Brazil and Guyana sides, the mountain is ordinarily approached from the Venezuela side.

photograph by Luis Castro

This mountain goes beyond this three-country madness in its appearance: it is not conical like the peaks you may think of in the Rockies or the Appalachians. Monte Roraima is actually called a “Tepui,” which is a flat-topped mountain with vertical sides. Rain constantly washes away soil on the top of the mountain, leaving room for strange plants, and waterfalls trickle down all the sides of this peculiar peak. 

Monte Roraima isn’t the only Tepui, but it was the first to be climbed. The credit can be placed with English botanist Everard Im Thurn, who in December of 1884 successfully scaled the sides of this strange rock along with assistant surveyor Harry Perkins.

photograph by Peter Ulrich

Most climbers who attempt this same ascent hire a guide from Paraitepui, which can be reached in Venezuela from a dirt road. While there are routes set up on the Paraitepui trail (the most popular and least technical way to climb it), climbers who have been to the massive Tepui say that there is much uncharted rock — a grand, golden opportunity for anyone tough enough to brave the oft-wet conditions that are always a risk in pursuing Monte Roraima.

photograph by Luis Castro

MOAB
Utah, United States

photograph by Jim Trodel

Moab, Utah, is one location that most avid climbers have either been to, want to go to, or at least know about. The city of Moab is a small community that’s opened its arms to a widening span of both climbers and bikers alike. To those beyond the climbing community, though, the prestige of Moab is less known. 

The extent of climbing in Moab is jaw-dropping, and the versatility is commendable. You can climb on pitch sport routes or you can make multi-day treks to the top of one of the spires, scale one of the famous cracks in Indian Creek, or hit any number of cliffs. 

photograph by Rob Baird

The spires shoot up into the sky against the rough, red skin of the Utah soil. The curves of the soil bend into the sky and the clouds greet the arching rocks, spires, and rock sculptures with a respect that nature only has for itself. In 1961, Huntley Ingalls and Layton Kor ascended Castleton Tower in the Castle Valley, a part of Moab, kickstarting Utah's climbing fame. Before this daring ascent, climbers had been afraid that the rock was too fragile. In 1976, Earl Wiggins and Ed Webster grabbed the first ascent of the famous Supercrack route; a route made of a perfect, natural crack slicing through a tall rock face in Indian Creek Canyon in the Canyonlands National Park, near Moab.

Along with Joshua Tree in California, Red Rocks in Nevada, Red River Gorge in Kentucky, and many other famous nature climbing areas in the United States, climbers say the Moab experience offers a little mystery and beauty that’s unique to the area because of its carved and towering sandstone that mixes with the light of the Western sun and sky. 

photograph by James Gordon

METEORA
Kalambaka, Greece

photograph by Vaggelis Vlahos

Meteora, located just north of Kalambaka in Greece, has an interesting history. Long before climbers came to the peculiar structures there, ancient monks would scale its walls to build monasteries. These men used scaffolds and later rope ladders, and it's shocking to think of the effort made to get to the top of these peaks.

Some of these monasteries still exist — and on those peaks, climbing is not allowed. There are also holes in some of the rock, where people previously lived, and a very few live there still. The oldest known man-made structure, a wall supposedly built to block wind, was found in a prehistoric cave in the area. In the 9th century, monks moved into the pinnacles and lived a mainly solitary life including chapel visits at the foot of the Dhoupiani rock. According to the Mountain Project website, the monks wanted to be up there to "be alone with God."

photograph by Carlos Pinto

There is a unique magnetism and connection in the area and the rocks. The bizarre gray of the cliffs, the green of the grass growing on the rock sides, and the monasteries tell a long tale of human connection to the land. It's interesting to see how such an inaccessible area, with peaks soaring upwards, has appealed to populations for centuries, all of which had to climb.

photograph by Carlos Pinto

SEA STACKS
Hoy Island, Scotland

via Flickr

Surrounded by water, Scotland's sea stacks are different from their land-locked climbing peak brothers and sisters. They rise from the waves like grasping fingers, while swirling around them are rough seas and torrential weather. 

The stacks are not islands — they are simply too tall to be islands. The only way to the top is to climb. They are formed by many, many years of water degradation and dissolution. Some of the most famous sea stacks — there are over 200 in and near Scottish waters — are Old Man of Hoy, Old Man of Stoer, Am Buacaille, and the Castle of Yesnaby. 

photograph by Adrian Fagg

Hoy Island in Orkney is nearest to the stacks. According to the island guide, the stacks are as "remote and wild as you can imagine." The guide describes how a 1953 climbing guide even said the Old Man of Hoy was unclimbable — although that has not deterred the adventurous. 

Over the years, the sea stacks may erode even more, but they should be around for a good number of generations to brave the waves and the whims of the Scottish sea for a breathtaking climb. 

photograph by Paul Stephenson

STONE MOUNTAIN
North Carolina, United States

photograph by wonderal/Flickr user

Stone Mountain doesn't look like other mountains. Other mountains are tall and craggy, slashing through clouds and outlining blue skies.

Stone Mountain is precisely what its name describes: a stone. It does not crawl high into the sky like the famous faces of Yosemite and the mountains of the Western United States. It looks like a large, sprawling stone peeping above a bed of green flora. It is a slab. Imagine a tall, vertical rock with millions of little cracks and crevices and pieces poking out to grab or stick your hand into — this is not what Stone Mountain is. 

photograph by Amy Meredith

In May of 1965, George DeWolfe and John Thorne set out to climb "The Great Arch," as it's often called. They failed, and came back in August; however, the climb had already been grabbed by Fess Green and Bill Chatfield. Despite the friendly competition between the two teams, the remainder of the decade and following decades were peaceful, with climbers trying to inch up the sleek slab. 

photograph by Amy Meredith

Climbing a rock face like Stone Mountain — a mountain that really looks more like flipped-over deep bowl or an old Cold War-era bunker — is dangerous and exposed. Sport climbing such a mountain, where you can be 20 feet above your last bolt (which means, if you were to fall, it could be incredibly dangerous and injury-prone) and still be looking at a feature-less slab, calls for only a risk-seeing kind of climber. It is mountains like these that would make a climber ask whether they're looking for a challenge — or maybe they're a little crazy.

But crazy is what keeps climbing going. 

The New York World's Fair in 1964 (via DJ Berson)

After visiting Paris, Chicago, and Barcelona, Atlas Obscura's tour of Worlds' Fair relics stops next in New York City, home to two of the best-known fairs.

The New York’s World’s Fair in 1939 was the second-largest World's Fair ever. Sporting a “Dawn of the Future” theme, the 1939 fair saw the debut of such technological marvels as air conditioning, color photography, fluorescent lamps, and television. 

Layout of the 1939 World's Fair (via mytravelphotos/Flickr user)

The Westinghouse time capsules (photograph by Doug Coldwell)

As part of the fair’s festivities, the Westinghouse Corporation created a time capsule containing a collection of ordinary artifacts meant to represent life in the early 20th Century — including a collection of various seeds, coins, a series of newspapers and magazines on microfilm, a Mickey Mouse watch, and a Kewpie doll. The items were selected based on whether they could withstand a very long interment — the capsule is scheduled to remain buried underground until the year 6939. Westinghouse assembled another capsule from the 1964 fair, to be opened at the same time. Both capsules are buried near the site of Westinghouse’s pavilion on the original fairgrounds in Queens.

Speaking of those fairgrounds, they became a New York City park complex, today known as Flushing Meadows-Corona Park. Many of the 1939 structures are no longer there, however, as they were either demolished or moved to make way for the 1964 fair in the same location. Robert Moses, one of New York’s most influential — for better or worse — civic planners, was behind both fairs and the creation of the fairgrounds themselves; as grand as the 1939 fair was, Moses had grander ideas for the grounds, and welcomed the chance to continue his work in 1964.

Aerial view of the 1964 fair (via armagosa/Flickr user)

Some wandering relics of the 1964 World's Fair include a giant tire-shaped Ferris wheel and a robot named Elektro. Below the Cold War era 1964 fair was even an underground home, complete with a pipe organ and lights for night and day — and it remains underground today. However, one of the most iconic symbols of the 1964 fair still stands in Flushing Park — the Unisphere, a twelve-story-tall stainless steel globe. During the fair, light displays gave the appearance of sunlight moving over the globe’s surface, and small lights depicted the capitals of every nation on earth — including the location of a Mohawk Indian reservation which was home to many members of the Unisphere’s construction team. 

The Unisphere in 1964 (via Wikimedia)

The Unisphere today (photograph by Allison Meier/Atlas Obscura)

Near the Unisphere sits the Queens Museum of Art — housed in the former New York City pavilion, which is one of the only surviving buildings from the 1939 fair. The pavilion lay unused after the 1939 fair, until 1946, when it became the first temporary home for the United Nations. After the UN moved to its permanent home in Manhattan, the building was renovated for the 1964 fair, again hosting the New York City pavilion. The building’s star attraction from the 1964 fair was the New York Panorama — a 9,335 square-foot architectural model of the city of New York, with each and every building represented to scale; the Panorama even includes small model planes that appear to “take off” and “land” from the panorama’s little LaGuardia Airport. The pavilion re-opened as an art museum after the fair, and is now the Queens Museum. The Panorama is still on display, with teams of model makers periodically updating the panorama to reflect the city’s changing landscape. 

The panorama in the Queens Museum (photograph by Allison Meier/Atlas Obscura)

Sun rising on the diorama (photograph by Allison Meier/Atlas Obscura)

The Queens Museum also holds another, lesser-known 1939 relic — a relief map of New York City’s water system. Originally constructed for the 1939 fair, the topographic map covers New York’s Hudson River Valley, from the Catskills down to New York City, with lights depicting the path of New York’s extensive municipal water system. However, the map ultimately was too big for its intended room at the 1939 fair, and it was placed into storage for ten years. It went on display once in 1949, then got stored away again until 2006, when the Queens Museum finally brought it home. Elsewhere in the museum are displays of memorabilia from both New York fairs.

World's Fair relics in the Queens Museum (photograph by Allison Meier/Atlas Obscura)

Water system map (photograph by Chris Devers)

One final 1964 relic ended up on the other side of the country. At the time of the fair, Walt Disney had recently opened his Disneyland theme park in Anaheim, California, and was invited to create three animatronic displays for the World’s Fair. Disney, who’d considered establishing a “Permanent World’s Fair” on one of his parks, readily agreed, and offered four exhibits — including the very first version of his “It’s A Small World” theme park ride, and an animatronic statue of President Lincoln for the Illinois State pavilion. After the fair, Disney briefly considered relocating his park to New York since the exhibits were already there. Instead, Disney World stayed in Florida, and Disney moved “It’s A Small World” and Lincoln to Anaheim, where the Lincoln model is still included in Disneyland’s “Hall of Presidents” exhibit.

Abraham Lincoln animatronic at Disneyland (photograph by Justin Ennis)

Here are some more photographs from the World's Fair in New York City:

Parade at the 1939 World's Fair (via New York Public Library)

Trains at the 1964 fair (via Wikimedia)

Statue of George Washington in 1939 (via Penn State Special Collections)

1964 with a view of the fair (photograph by Ted Thompson)

Riding over the World's Fair in 1964 (via paulsedra/Flickr user)

The Chrysler pavilion (photograph by Doug Coulter)

A dinosaur in 1964 (via Karen Horton)

GM concept car (photograph by Don O'Brien)

"To the Moon & Beyond" with the tire Ferris wheel (via DJ Berson)

Rockets and planes in 1964, some of which is still at the New York Hall of Science (via rhtraveler/Flickr user)

Unisphere aerial view (via Wikimedia)

Mosaic for the New York State Pavilion, which remains abandoned, today (photograph by Wally Gobetz)

Stay tuned for more in our series on World's Fair relics, and be sure to visit Paris, Chicago, and Barcelona. 

This week the fantastic Wellcome Library in London announced that they're releasing more than 100,000 images for Creative Commons use. While many Atlas Obscura readers may be familiar with the Wellcome Collection, that fascinating museum of curiosities and medical history, its sister institution the Wellcome Library has just as much intriguing material. The thousands of high-resolution images include books, illustrations, art, and even objects.

Our favorite finds from browsing were these two memento mori figures from 1800, one a gentleman, the other a lady, each with their skeleton exposed. This form of art where half of a figure would be living, the other half rotting, was a common motif to remind viewers of their own mortality and to seize the day (and perhaps repent before Judgement Day). However, these two are special in the genteel grotesqueness of their forms. We recommend making your own discoveries on Wellcome Images, but be warned, it's a history rabbit hole that can engulf even the most jaded of erudite minds.

via WellcomeImages.org

via WellcomeImages.org

Explore more of the strange, beautiful, and macabre at Wellcome Images.

Bannerman Castle (all photographs by the author)

Many a Metro North traveler has pressed their face to the train when while passing through Beacon, New York, wondering what strangely medieval castle ruins are doing in the Hudson River. Yet while Bannerman Castle isn't as old as it looks, the 1901 structure is already looking as worn as the European relics it was modeled after, and needs help to preserve its skeletal walls. 

According to the Wall Street Journal, stabilization of the remains of the buildings that make up the "castle" on Pollepel Island was started in November is planned for completion this February. However, that's just the first step in what the Bannerman Castle Trust, which has overseen the island since 1993, plans to do for the island. While there are already tours that travel by boat to the island, they want to have a visitor center, more music events, and even overnight activities. But all of that requires extensive preservation work, for which they are raising funds online.

Atlas Obscura made a trip to Bannerman Castle in 2012, exploring the impressive remains of the castle on the small island north of New York City. Prior to it becoming a little outpost of the medieval, the island had a debaucherous past of drinking, prostitution, and general lawlessness. That all changed when Francis Bannerman IV purchased the island to hold his arsenal, the munitions of which were no longer welcome in Brooklyn where they made neighbors uneasy. Rather than build a boring old warehouse, the Scottish-born New Yorker decided to bring a bit of the old world with his own fortress. Unfortunately, after Bannerman's death, it was deteriorated by an explosion in the arsenal (which perhaps confirmed Brooklyn's fears), fires, vandalism, and whole collapses of its walls after harsh weather in 2009 and 2010. Now although it's not its once formidable self, with a little help from its admirers hopefully this anomaly will be protected to keep its strange silhouette on the Hudson.

Help preserve Bannerman Castle and find out about upcoming tours at the Bannerman Castle Trust.

Design for a Victorian Tower of Babel - complete with a steam-powered railway (via Archive.org)

Failure, by its nature, tends not to leave traces. Buildings are demolished. Books disappear into landfill. Manuscripts are written over. Statues are smashed to pieces. The world goes about its business, swiftly forgetting.

But some failures are too big to disappear quietly. They stick around — for years, sometimes for centuries. The six monuments below are born of truly epic failure. They are the spirit of Ozymandias in concrete — ambitions which paid no attention to reality. 

KONGRESSHALLE
Nuremberg, Germany

The Kongresshalle (via Nicohofmann/Wikimedia)

The half-finished Kongresshalle looms over Nuremberg like a sinister Nazi Colosseum — which is exactly what it is. Nuremberg, scene of Leni Riefenstahl’s epic propaganda film Triumph of the Will, was the Nazi party’s stage: a backdrop for rallies, parades, and indoctrination — and for the creation of chilling images of German power. The Nazi rally grounds covered 11 square kilometers (118,404,000 square feet) of unforgiving concrete and granite. At their heart was the Kongresshalle, a gigantic congress center.

Groundbreaking ceremony for the Kongresshalle (via Wikimedia)

Designed by Franz and Ludwig Ruff, construction began in 1935, with Hilter attending the groundbreaking ceremony. It was built on a vast scale: the completed Kongresshalle would have seated 50,000. Its colonnades and layers of archways were designed to echo the Colosseum in Rome — another symbol of an empire triumphant. Fascist architecture, in both Germany and Italy, drew heavily on themes from ancient Rome — Mussolini was continually photographed in front of ancient monuments looking unconvincingly pensive, seeking to portray himself as a second Augustus. Hilter’s architects saw in the ancient world the blueprints for their leader’s fantasy of a thousand-year Reich.

photograph by Ben Garrett

The Second World War diverted attention away from the Kongresshalle’s construction, and it was never completed. Despite its monumental scale today, it only ever reached around half of its planned height. With the fall of Hitler’s regime, the rally grounds of Nuremberg were abandoned, for a time. Later German governments elected to preserve them, to prevent the memory of past insanities from slipping away. The Kongresshalle was landmarked in its half-built state. Today, it can be visited along with the remains of the Nuremberg rally grounds — and all can be thankful that it remains only a monument to failure.

photograph by Theresa Meier

THE WATKIN TOWER
Wembley, London, England

Winning design for the Watkin Tower (via Public Domain Review/Flickr)

One of the most remarkable buildings in Victorian London was never completed, and has subsequently been forgotten almost completely.

On the outskirts of London in 1893, a gigantic tower was under construction near Wembley. It was championed by one of the country’s richest men, and set to outdo the Eiffel Tower in Paris. Workmen were digging out enormous foundations, and eager reports were filling the newspapers every week.

Vanity Fair caricature of Sir Edward Watkin (via Wikimedia)

Sir Edward Watkin, one of Victorian Britain’s most colourful rail tycoons, wanted more passengers for his new Metropolitan railway line, which led to Wembley. He also wanted to put the Parisians in the shade. His supersized tower offered a chance to do both. Plans were swiftly drawn up. "In another eighteen months," Freeman’s Journal wrote in 1892, "London will rejoice in a New Tower of Babel, piercing the skies some 150 feet higher than the renowned Eiffel Tower of Paris. Not only will the Watkin Tower look down 150 feet on the Eiffel Tower, but it will be capable of taking up three times as many passengers at a time."

The design was selected after a widely-advertised public competition: many of the early designs embraced Babel’s sense of limitless possibility, and the collected competition entries are a treasure-trove of high Victorian lunacy, a flip-book of blueprints for a Steampunk London that never was. A railway winds its way up the side of one tower. Another contains a replica of the Great Pyramid at Giza. Hanging gardens in the sky support a community of tower-dwelling vegetarians. Many simply mimic the Eiffel Tower — but with ostentatious extra floors.

Rejected design for the Watkin Tower (via Archive.org)

Soon, though, Watkin’s Babel began to run into trouble. Funds dried up, construction costs increased, and after work ceased with only the first level complete, malicious nicknames began to cluster around the project. "The London Stump," said some. "Watkin’s Folly," said others. The squat remains of the Watkin Tower sat rusting in Wembley Park until 1907, when dynamite, rather than divine wrath, put an end to them with little ceremony. Today, the tower’s traces are buried in the foundations of Wembley Stadium, with little to mark what was to have been one of the greatest buildings of the Victorian age.

The abandoned remains of the Watkin Tower (via Public Domain Review/Flickr)

NEW SOUTH CHINA MALL
Dongguan, China

A replica of the Arc de Triomphe greets shoppers at the New South China Mall (via Wikimedia)

Greed, and what the ancient Greeks called hubris — the kind of pride and confidence which it is dangerous for mere mortals to have — drove more than a few of the structures on this list. Watkin was already rich, and already a national figure, but he wanted more money, and more celebrity.

Such, too, was the dream of Alex Hu, China’s billionaire instant-noodle king. He was going to build a monument that would put his hometown, Dongguan, on the map — and make him into a national hero. This being 21st century China, he would build not a tower, or a giant assembly-hall, but a shopping mall. The biggest shopping mall the world had ever seen.

Map of the New South China Mall, as it was intended to be (via Wikimedia)

Dongguan lies at the smoggy heart of the new Chinese Dream, in the Pearl River Delta: a sprawl of factories, highways, and concrete, running inland from Hong Kong. Here, in 2005, the New South China Mall opened. A replica Arc de Triomphe welcomes shoppers; a Venetian canal snakes for 2 kilometers (1.24 miles) through the complex; a gigantic indoor roller coaster loops above the walkways. Altogether, there is space for some 2,350 shops. Newsweek called it one of the "new wonders of the world." The developers told the New York Times: "We wanted to leave our mark on history."

Empty shops stretch into the distance at the New South China Mall (via Wikimedia)

But the shops — and the shoppers — never came. What Hu hadn’t considered was the location: all this was built on a former farm, miles from the centre of Dongguan, with almost non-existent public transport links. Retailers took one look at it and stayed away. Other than a few fast food chains, the gigantic complex is almost entirely deserted.

A cleaner at work amidst the empty shops in the New South China Mall (via Remko Tanis/Flickr)

Now, with vacancy rates still running at 99% according to one recent article, the mall is an eerie ghost city: empty shop fronts stretch into the distance, cordoned-off escalators lie dormant, and cleaners still polish the glass and chrome — but no-one is there to see it. It is all the more disconcerting because of the booming landscape that surrounds it. 

FORDLÂNDIA
Brazil

Ruins of Fordlândia (via Wikimedia)

Alex Hu and Sir Edward Watkin may seem like rather ambitious men, prone to rather grand schemes, but they have nothing on Henry Ford. One day, Ford decided that he wanted to build a town in the middle of the Amazon rainforest. Fordlândia, Brazil, was born.

During the 1920s, with car production expanding rapidly, Ford found himself paying more and more heavily for rubber for his tires. The only rubber plantations which could supply him were located in East Asia, and were under the control of European powers. In 1927, he decided to do something about it: he would carve out a new rubber plantation in Brazil to supply his factories, and he would build a miniature American town in the middle of the jungle, for his workers and managers to live in. Ford was the richest man in the world. A town was small potatoes.

A dentist's chair in the ruins of the hospital at Fordlândia (photograph by Guido Otero)

As Greg Grandin puts it in his recent book on the failed enterprise, this was to be an example "of how Ford-style capitalism — high wages, humane benefits and moral improvement — could bring prosperity to a benighted land."

Fordlândia was, from day one, a disaster. The site was almost impossibly remote — 18 hours’ journey by riverboat from the nearest town, and 600 miles from the Atlantic. Ford’s handpicked managers, as Grandin notes, did not include "a horticulturalist, agronomist, botanist, microbiologist, entomologist or any other person who might know something about jungle rubber and its enemies."

The town in 1933 (via The Henry Ford Museum)

"Ford-style capitalism" did not translate successfully. Compulsory poetry readings and square-dances — and a ban on alcohol — went down like a bad joke. Workers began to riot with increasing frequency, destroying cars, trucks, buildings, tractors, and the loathed time-clocks. Ford’s manager, Einar Oxholm, sat morosely on the porch of his house, sipping rum.

A Scot, Johnson, dispatched upriver to source rubber seeds, went entirely mad, and ran through the villages chasing goats and chickens with a bottle of perfume, yelling: "Mr. Ford has lots of money; you might as well smell good too." One American, after quietly assessing all of his options, jumped headlong into a nest of crocodiles.

Fordlândia's time-clock, destroyed by rioters in December 1930 (via The Henry Ford Museum)

Needless to say, Fordlândia never came close to achieving Henry Ford’s ambitions. The rubber trees died. The workers drifted away. Despite numerous promises to visit, he himself never set eyes on the place. In November 1945, Ford’s managers simply packed up and left, abandoning Fordlândia to the elements. Many of the model Midwestern houses still stand, encrusted with bat guano and hidden behind overgrown gardens. A rusting 150-foot-tall water tower looms over the trees. And the journey from the nearest town still takes 18 hours.

PORT FAMINE
Patagonia, Chile

Site of Port Famine, Chile (via Wikimedia)

Ghost towns like Fordlândia dot the globe — from the abandoned island of Gunkanjima, Japan, to the homes of Chernobyl’s workers in Pripyat, Ukraine, and the dust of Terlingua, Texas. All have melancholy histories. But few are as terrible as that of Port Famine in Chile.

The town lies in Patagonia on the north shore of the Strait of Magellan. It is a bleak, cold, astonishing place, more fit for sea lions than humans. Here, in 1584, Captain Pedro Sarmiento de Gamboa founded a new city: the City of King Philip, or Ciudad del Rey Don Felipe. 337 settlers – including women, children, and two Franciscan priests – were to claim this corner of the world for Spain, with little more than hope and a gigantic wooden crucifix to sustain them.

The odds were always against them. Few of the settlers understood how to grow food in such conditions, or knew what lay in wait for them in the harsh seasons of the year. Illness, rodents, bitter cold, and crop failure: one after the other struck the settlement. When Thomas Cavendish, a British privateer, came upon the settlement some years later, not a single one of the original inhabitants was left alive. Graves dotted the landscape. The buildings were already falling into ruin. Cavendish renamed the place Port Famine, or Puerto del Hambre — and the name has stuck. 

1846 illustration of Port Famine, or Puerto del Hambre (via Wikimedia)

No significant attempts were made to resettle Port Famine until the 1840s, though early in the 19th century, some British ships used it as a base. It remained very much a place of ill omen. When HMS Beagle visited in August 1828, her captain, Pringle Stokes, shot himself dead, driven to despair by the harsh conditions. The Beagle returned some years later, with Charles Darwin aboard — who appears to have been impervious to the place’s reputation – and today, a trickle of tourists come to see what remains of the City of King Philip: the ruins of a church, and a handful of graves, sloping down towards the sea.

THE SNOW TOMB OF CAPTAIN ROBERT FALCON SCOTT
Ross Ice Shelf, Antarctica

The grave of Scott, Henry Bowers, and Edmund Wilson (via Wikimedia)

Intensely personal stories lie at the heart of many of these places. While failure can sometimes – as in the case of Hitler’s Kongresshalle – be a cause for celebration, more often there is heartbreak behind it. So it was in November 1912, on the Ross Ice Shelf in Antarctica.

There a British expedition was searching for Robert Falcon Scott and his party, who had vanished into the snows the previous year, never returning from their search for the South Pole. On November 12, one of the group, Charles Wright, saw "a small object projecting above the surface" of the ice. It was part of a tent. They had discovered the final resting place of Scott and two of his men, Henry Bowers and Edward Wilson.

Scott and members of his expedition (via Wikimedia)

Scott lay between the others — his diary recording their final days: "It seems a pity, but I do not think I can write more," the last entry ran. "For God’s sake look after our people." They had died just 11 miles short of a food depot — but 11 miles, in an Antarctic blizzard and -60C temperatures, was close to an eternity. While they had reached the South Pole, they were not the first to do so: Roald Amundsen’s competing expedition had got there first, five weeks ahead of Scott. Turning back, Scott knew that his expedition had not succeeded.

Why it was that Scott and his men perished has been debated ever since, with some scholars pinning at least part of the blame on Scott’s decision-making, while others point to a series of misfortunes, coupled with unforeseeable weather. The search party themselves were subject to almost impossible conditions: one of them, Apsley Cherry-Garrard, recalled his teeth chattering so violently that they shattered.

Captain Robert Falcon Scott (via Wikimedia)

The bodies were not brought back to Britain. Instead, wrote Cherry-Garrard, "We never moved them. We took the bamboos of the tent away and the tent itself covered them. Over them we built the cairn." They left this cairn of stones, topped with a solitary cross, standing in the middle of the Antarctic wasteland: a memorial to the impossible bravery of Scott’s ill-fated expedition. It has stood there ever since — gradually covered with year after year of fresh snowfall. By now, the grave has long since been buried deep under the ice. It is likely that eventually, encased deep within an iceberg, the bodies of Scott, Bowers, and Wilson will slowly drift away, out to sea — leaving no monument behind.

MONUMENTS TO EPIC FAILURE:

KONGRESSHALLE, Nuremberg, Germany

THE WATKIN TOWER, Wembley, London, England

NEW SOUTH CHINA MALL, Dongguan, China

FORDLÂNDIA, Brazil

PORT FAMINE, Patagonia, Chile

THE SNOW TOMB OF CAPTAIN ROBERT FALCON SCOTT, Ross Ice Shelf, Antarctica

In the Photo of the Week feature, we highlight an exceptionally amazing photograph submitted by an Atlas Obscura user.

Did you guys know that Atlas Obscura is all up on Instagram? We are always posting photos from our events and explorations, and we'd love to hear your comments and see your lovingly filtered snapshots as well. This week's haunting pic of Germany's abandoned Spreepark comes from the Instagram account of our very own writer, Ella Morton. She had this to say about her experience among the rotting rides:

"A friend and I sneaked into Spreepark, the Berlin amusement park that has been abandoned since 2002. As we approached the fenced-off perimeter, the large red Ferris wheel began rotating slowly, accompanied by an eerie squeal. We concluded it must be powered by the souls of murdered children. Undeterred, we hopped the fence and set about walking along roller coaster tracks, climbing inside the log ride mountain, and taking joyrides in pink mustache cars. Everything was overgrown and dilapidated and wonderful."

SPREEPARK, Berlin, Germany

Thanks to all of our adventurous users who keep submitting such amazing shots! Want to have your photograph featured? Keep adding your captures to our ever-growing compendium of wondrous places (just click the "Edit This Place" link at the bottom of each place). And watch here each Friday for another Photo of the Week. 

War is a time of destruction, and many of the pieces of art or architecture that survived during World War II were saved by the courageous souls in the Monuments, Fine Arts, and Archives program. The initiative of the Allies — known as the Monuments Men, focus of a forthcoming film— was a team of 400 soldiers and civilians working to protect cultural heritage, and recover art looted by the Nazis

Below are five of the greatest art saves from World War II, where ordinary people and the MFAA both strove to save this heritage amidst the battles. 

The Mona Lisa

Mona Lisa revealed after the war (via louvre.fr)

Few in the crowds that now mob Leonardo da Vinci's "Mona Lisa" in the Louvre know how much she traveled during World War II. As the war was breaking out, the greatest treasures of the Paris museum were boxed up in waterproof materials and send to the countryside. After departing the Louvre on August 28, 1939, the "Mona Lisa" moved five times, including to Loire Valley castles and a quiet abbey, all the while that enigmatic smile masked inside a plain wrapping. It must have been a relief when after the war she returned to Paris and that famous face was glimpsed again. 

"The Winged Victory" being relocated during the art evacuation of the Louvre (photograph by Pierre Jahan/Archives des musées nationaux)

The Last Supper

"The Last Supper" before World War II (via witcombe.sbc.edu)

The "Mona Lisa" wasn't the only Leonardo da Vinci masterpiece to have a close call during World War II — the "Last Supper" fresco was almost blown to smithereens. The mural on the wall of the Santa Maria delle Grazie church in Milan was carefully covered with sandbags and scaffolding, which is likely what saved it when Allied bombs pummeled the city on August 15, 1943. Almost all of the church was turned to rubble in the air raid, yet improbably standing among the debris was the wall with the "Last Supper."

After the air raid, with "The Last Supper" behind the scaffolding on the right (via monumentsmen.com)

The Prinzhorn Collection

1909 letter by mental patient Emma Hauck, part of the Prinzhorn Collection (via Wikimedia)

One of the lesser-known art saves of World War II is the Prinzhorn Collection. The collection in a university psychiatric clinic in Heidelberg was amassed by Hans Prinzhorn, an art historian and practitioner of medical science during World War I, who took a particular interest in how mental illness was manifested in art. The around 5,000 pieces from some 450 patients would likely have been destroyed by the Nazis who eradicated Europe of much "degenerate" art that fell outside their ideas of perfection. However, the art was hidden away in university storage and is now out on permanent display today in the clinic. 

"Witch's head" (1915) by August Natterer, who had schizophrenia, part of the Prinzhorn Collection (via Wikimedia)

Altarpiece of Veit Stoss

Detail of the Veit Stoss altar (via Poland Ministry of Foreign Affairs)

Created in the late 15th century by Veit Stoss, the altarpiece of St. Mary's Basilica in Krakow, Poland, is the most massive Gothic altarpiece in existence, but its reign of beauty almost ended during World War II. Polish citizens had taken apart the lime wood altar and hidden it in different crates across the country, but once Poland was occupied these containers were tracked down and shipped to Germany. There they ended up in the basement of Nuremberg Castle, which was totally wrecked by bombs. Yet Polish prisoners there had alerted the Polish Resistance of the altar's presence, and despite all odds it was found intact in the untouched basement. It returned to Poland in 1946 and looms beautifully over the church today. 

The altar in the church (photograph by Jorge Lascar)

Salt Mines of Altaussee

At the mines in 1945 (via Wikimedia)

Hitler had grand visions for a "Führermuseum" which would house all the wonders of European art — and for this he looted the best museums he could. Much of the art intended for his dream museum ended up in the Austrian salt mines of Altaussee, including works by Michelangelo and Vermeer, along with Jan van Eyck's stunning Ghent altarpiece. The mines were actually intended to be blown up — with all 6,500 paintings inside — upon an Allied advance, but something prevented the explosions. Eventually the American army with the MFAA Monument Men took control of the mines, although sorting out where all the art goes is still an ongoing project. 

The Ghent altarpiece recovered from the mine (via Wikimedia)

The Neumeyer glacier, photographed in 1915 by Frank Hurley during Ernest Shackleton's Endurance expedition to Antarctica (via State Library of NSW)

This week is Polar Week at Atlas Obscura! We'll be celebrating all things Arctic and Antarctic, from the North to South Pole, through curious stories and fascinating locales. If you are in certain parts of the world you may already feel like you're in an ice kingdom, so grab a warm drink and join us for tales of two of the frigid extremes of our planet.

Have any tips for Polar Week? Drop us a line through email or Twitter with the hashtag #PolarWeek. You can also join in the frozen fun on Facebook, Tumblr, Google+, and Kinja. In the meantime, check out some of our favorite polar places below, and scroll down for more of Frank Hurley's stunning photographs from the legendary 1915 Shackleton Endurance expedition to Antarctica courtesy the State Library of New South Wales. 

BLOOD FALLS, Antarctica
Natural time capsule containing an alien ecosystem

SHACKLETON'S ANTARCTIC HUT, Antarctica
Nimrod Polar Expedition base, and home to hundred-year-old frozen whisky

CHAPEL OF THE SNOWS, McMurdo Station, Antarctica
The place of worship erected not once, but three times in one of the most desolate places on Earth

WILSON'S STONE IGLOO, Antarctica
A tattered, but preserved, stone shelter and its remnants sits as a reminder of "The Worst Journey in the World"

MT. EREBUS, Antarctica
Fire meets ice at the southernmost volcano on Earth

SCOTT POLAR RESEARCH INSTITUTE MUSEUM & LIBRARY, Cambridge, England
An extraordinary library and archive dedicated to the history of the Arctic and Antarctic poles

The Endurance (via)

An albatross chick (via)

Dog sled team scouting the territory (via)

New Fortuna Glacier (via)

Frank Hurley and his camera (via)

Ernest Shackleton watching the waters (via)

The Weddell Sea and the Endurance (via)

The impenetrable icefield (via)

Polar Week is January 27 - 31, 2014 at Atlas Obscura. Follow along on Twitter (hashtag #PolarWeek), Facebook, Tumblr, Google+, and Kinja. 

Snowfields of Antarctica (photograph by Stephen Hudson, via Wikimedia)

As a continent, Antarctica is often overlooked. Its total surface area stands in excess of 14 million km², which places it ahead of Europe in terms of size — and makes it almost twice the size of Australia. As much as 98% of the continent’s surface is covered in thick, compacted ice, reaching an average depth of over a mile. The continent is beset by some of the fiercest winds on the planet, and temperatures have been reported to drop as low as −129 °F... the lowest temperature ever recorded anywhere.

Despite being the most inhospitable place on the planet however, recent scientific discoveries suggest that this forgotten continent – sometimes nicknamed the “Great White Desert” – may in fact have once been carpeted in forest.

The Forests of Antarctica

The discovery has come in the form of fossilized impressions of wood and leaves in the region of Antarctica's Mount Achernar. Even the stumps of ancient tree trunks have been uncovered, believed to date back to prehistoric times.

The Mt Achernar Tree Trunk (photograph by Patricia E. Ryberg)

It is commonly accepted that during the late Permian and early Triassic periods, as much as 250 million years ago, the whole world would have been far hotter than it is today.

Sarah Feakins, a biogeochemist from the University of Southern California, posits that the Antarctic coast was once lined with beeches and conifers; based on evidence taken from leaf waxes found in sediment cores extracted from the Ross Ice Shelf.

A period of warmer climate around 15 million years ago, known as the Miocene period, could have had areas of the Antarctic resembling the kind of forested tundra seen today in New Zealand or parts of Chile. Chemical study of the leaf wax samples indicates that during the summer months, the coast of Antarctica could have been as warm as 15°F.

However, due to the extreme southern placement of the continent, even a warmer Antarctica would have been without light for months on end during the winter — while summer would have been one endless day. This raises the question of how plants were able to survive, the light required for photosynthesis being unavailable for months at a time.

The answers, claims Patricia Ryberg, Assistant Professor of Biology with Park University, can be found by studying these fossilized tree samples; “because trees record physiological responses,” she explained to Live Science.

During a recent research trip, Ryberg and her team collected samples from the fossilized wood in order to analyze the rings of these ancient trees. A pattern soon emerged in the cells, showing how the forests would grow upwards and outward before turning dormant for months at a time, storing carbon in their cells.

A view of the Riiser-Larsen Ice Shelf (photograph by Ben Holt, via NASA)

On analysis, the pattern of growth in the Antarctic tree samples showed habits typically associated with evergreen trees. However, the fossilized leaf impressions demonstrated what appeared to have been a matting effect, layers of plant tissue indicative of a forest shedding all of its leaves at once: a deciduous forest.

The research would seem to suggest then that these were mixed forests, containing both evergreen and deciduous tree populations.

Ryberg has also hypothesized that much of the ring structure in these samples shares characteristics with tropical trees. As tropical trees experience less of a seasonal effect, they are known to go through periods of short-term dormancy; a process that results in sporadic bursts of growth. This might well account for how the forests of Antarctica were able to survive during extended periods of darkness.

In the meantime, the discovery has given new strength to speculation about life in the Great White Desert.

Legends of the Great White Desert

Antarctica is devoid of native human settlements, although there are a number of research stations scattered across the continent generally catering to anywhere between 1,000 and 5,000 visitors at a time. Besides that, the only life forms to thrive in this lost continent are those creatures specifically adapted for the extreme cold temperatures; penguins, seals and their mites, algae, fungi, and bacteria.

The discovery of fossilized forests however, would seem to suggest that life had once been more abundant here.

Laubeuf Fjord and Webb Island (photograph by Vincent van Zeijst, via Creative Commons)

It’s not the first time that people have speculated about life in the extreme south. Such theories date back to antiquity; there were myths of a “Terra Australis” (or “Southern Land”) as early as the 15th century, when this mysterious mass began appearing on maps and atlases. Rather than basing such theories on survey though, it was a popular belief that the landmass in the northern hemisphere should logically be balanced by a similar mass in the south.

Antarctica was officially first sighted by an expedition of the Imperial Russian Navy in 1820. Within the next ten months both British and American ships would also confirm the sighting of a new continent.

By this time, the British explorer Matthew Flinders had already linked the name “Terra Australis” to Australia. In his 1814 book A Voyage to Terra Australis, Flinders wrote: “There is no probability, that any other detached body of land, of nearly equal extent, will ever be found in a more southern latitude.”

In 1929 this history would be challenged, however, with the discovery of a map drawn by the 15th century Turkish admiral Piri Reis. Reis’ map was inspected by the United States Hydrographic Institute, which was reportedly amazed by its accuracy as a comprehensive chart that predates the official discovery of Antarctica by 300 years.

More recently though, "evidence" has come to light which reinforces those ancient theories of Terra Australis — and has led many to speculate about ancient civilizations lost beneath the ice of Antarctica.

On one recent trip to the Antarctic, a team of American and European scientists discovered what they believed to be the tips of three ancient pyramids. The story captured the imagination of the Russian press, in particular. Voice of Russia radio reported that the team was keeping quiet about the discovery, but if the pyramids were revealed to be manmade, it would bring about “the biggest revision of human history ever made”.

A view of Mount Herschel (photograph by Andrew Mandemaker, via Creative Commons)

Already, some commentators are making the connection between a forested, pyramid-filled Antarctica and — brace yourself — the lost civilization of Atlantis.

For example, this video makes a fairly passionate case for the Atlantis theory, even claiming that supposedly blank map areas on the face of the southernmost continent hide secret buildings, deliberately kept from view by Google. It certainly makes for an entertaining four minutes of viewing.

Science, however, moves much slower than imagination. Back in the real world, Ryberg and her colleagues are now looking for clues as to how densely these forests grew compared to modern forests. It seems likely that we’ll hear more over the coming years about ancient life in the forests of Antarctica, but, attractive as the notion may sound, don’t go holding your breath for news of ancient Atlantean pyramids.

Polar Week is January 27 - 31, 2014 at Atlas Obscura. Follow along on Twitter (hashtag #PolarWeek), Facebook, Tumblr, Google+, and Kinja. 

photograph by Brad Josephs (all images courtesy Natural Habitat Adventures)

The Arctic tundra is one of those places that evokes pure awe with its vast sparkling landscapes and wildlife unlike any other on earth. Amid the frozen wonderland is the town of Churchill in Manitoba, Canada, where every fall the mouth of the Hudson Bay freezes over, creating an ice bridge used by polar bears looking to cross over to higher hunting grounds.

From October to November, the bears gather at this spot waiting for the bridge to form, and since 2003 Natural Habitat Adventures has been giving people the opportunity to view these majestic creatures during their brief layover. The domicile for this excursion is the Tundra Lodge, a 32-room hotel-on-wheels that drives out onto a stretch of this frigid terrain at the beginning of each polar bear season, allowing guests to spend four days of their trip eating and sleeping in the presence of polar bears.

photograph by Colin McNulty

The Tundra Lodge has been designed specifically for the viewing of the bears and other wildlife with private windows in each of the rooms and additional sliding windows in both the lounge and dining cars accessible to everyone on board. Outdoor viewing platforms and steel mesh flooring in between the cars of the Tundra Lodge give additional chances to have some one-on-one face time with intrigued polar bears that often explore the windows, tires, or viewing platforms, with the bears as curious about the people inside as the guests are about them.

Staff member Holly Glessner told Atlas Obscura about a recent encounter: “One afternoon a very curious bear wandered over to the lodge to check a few of us out that were standing on the viewing platform. The next thing you know the polar bear stood up on its hind legs and stuck its large black nose right up against the multiple layers of steel grating that separated us from the bear and took a long deep sniff, I have a feeling we smelled delicious to him.”

An additional feature of the Tundra Lodge’s are Polar Rovers, brining the intrepid even closer to the wildlife with a large bus-like vehicle equipped with sliding windows and more steel mesh viewing platforms. On lucky evenings, the Northern Lights stretch across the night sky.

photograph by Brad Josephs

photograph by Henry H. Holdsworth

Court Whelan, Conservation Travel Specialist with Natural Habitat Adventures, stated: “It's a very communal feeling. Partly because the group eats meals together in the restaurant car and listens to discussions and talks from the Expedition Leaders at night in the lounge car together, but also because you're sharing such an intimate wildlife experience together.”

The polar bears are under an ever-increasing threat of global warming and destruction of their natural habitats. Due to their delicate circumstances, keeping their natural habitat clean and safe is a top priority. In 2006, the company became the world’s first carbon-neutral travel company with all travel emissions being 100% carbon offset. This and other efforts in conservation, outreach, and education led to the World Wildlife Fund to name them its worldwide travel partner for their commitment to environmentally friendly travel. Additionally, all visitors are provided with a steel water bottle and coffee mug in order to eliminate the use of plastic or Styrofoam as well as the possibility of anything being left behind. 

photograph by Glen Delman

photograph by Glen Delman

Watching nature in its most pure form has become less the norm and more of a rarity to many modern eyes. The raw beauty of it can be humbling, shattering, awe-inspiring, and create memories that can never be forgotten. Staying in the Tundra Lodge offers the ability to witness this kind of raw natural wonder while still taking care to ensure to that it will be around for years to come.

“This is a truly special experience,” stated Whelan, “There's something about eating oatmeal in the morning and looking out the window to see a 1,000 pound polar bear rolling around in the willows [that's] really special.”

photograph by Joan Borinstein

photograph by Melissa Scott

More information on polar bears and conservation can be found at the World Wildlife Fund.

Polar Week is January 27 - 31, 2014 at Atlas Obscura. Follow along on Twitter (hashtag #PolarWeek), Facebook, Tumblr, Google+, and Kinja. 

Halley VI (via Forgemind ArchiMedia)

Architecture in Antarctica has to withstand extremes that rival life on Mars. In fact, as a planetary analogue, engineering used for the rigid temperatures, harsh winds, and terrain almost void of life in Antarctica may serve as a model for future extraterrestrial habitation. For now, however, researchers are trying to survive as best they can at the southernmost tip of the world, and leave as little impact on its ice as possible.

Currently the Museum of Science and Industry in Manchester, England, is hosting Ice Lab: New Architecture and Science in Antarctica, a traveling exhibition organized by the British Council with the Arts Catalyst on contemporary architecture in Antarctica. Looking at both existing and speculative projects, the exhibition examines how research stations can combine livable space with sustainable design. 

Below are a few of the featured projects, as well as some other creative designs, and even a couple of futuristic stations on the horizon.

HALLEY VI

via Forgemind ArchiMedia

The British Antarctic Survey's Halley VI launched into operation last February with its blue and red connection of modules. Each piece of the station is poised on hydraulic stilts and skis, so it can not just stay above snow drifts, but relocate as well. This is especially important for Halley IV as unlike most stations that are on the Antarctica land mass, it is situated on a floating ice shelf. Up to 52 people can stay in the research station, wherever it may be. 

Inside the research station (via Forgemind ArchiMedia)

Aerial view (via Forgemind ArchiMedia)

PRINCESS ELISABETH ANTARCTICA

© International Polar Foundation - René Robert

The Belgian International Foundation's Princess Elisabeth Antarctica is securely attached to the Utsteinen Nunatak, an outcropping that gives the steel structure a sturdy clearance over the snow. A whole array of solar power panels and wind turbines cluster around it, helping to make the Princess Elisabeth the first zero-emission station built in Antarctica. A maximum of 16 scientists can lodge in its concentric spaces, which have been operating since February of 2009. 

© International Polar Foundation - René Robert

© International Polar Foundation - René Robert

BHARATI RESEARCH STATION

via Bof Architekten

For their third research station in Antarctica, India turned to Bof Architekten which designed this angular structure from some 134 prefabricated shipping containers. It's totally self-sufficient and, although not as nimble as Halley VI, it can be taken apart and relocated. It's been up and operating since of March of 2012 with a maximum capacity of 72 people. However, it hasn't all been smooth for the Bharati Research Station. It was ordered shut down last year due to fighting between the station leader and subordinates, as well as a serious shortage of fuel. 

SANAE IV

photograph by Ross Hofmeyr

Completed in 1997, the South African National Antarctica Expedition's SANAE IV is relatively weathered compared to the other stations on this list, but it's still operating thanks in large part to its strategic choice of geography. 100 miles from the shore, it's up on a flat-topped mountain that protects it from snow accumulations. Its roof is orange for visibility, but its blue undercarriage was later painted red as it was seen as too close to the old South African flag. 

photograph by Chantal Steyn

photograph by Chantal Steyn

COMANDANTE FERRAZ ANTARCTIC STATION 

via Estúdio41

This striking design for Brazil's Comandante Ferraz Antarctic Station isn't built yet, but when it is it will be able to withstand −70°F temperatures out on the Keller Peninsula. Designed by Estúdio41, it replaces a previous station wrecked by a fire in 2012. Similar to Halley VI, it will have adjustable stilt legs, and hopefully a longer life than its unfortunate predecessor. 

JANG BOGO STATION

via Space Group

Also currently underway is Jang Bogo Station. Planned to open this February, the station headed by South Korea was designed by Space Group, and will be able to hold some 60 people. As the limits of human endurance may soon be stretched to the stars, perhaps this cutting edge model of sustainability in a hostile place will be a model for future extraterrestrial design. 

Ice Lab: New Architecture and Science in Antarctica is at the Museum of Science & Industry in Manchester, England, through March 2, 2014.

Still from "Aatsinki: The Story of Arctic Cowboys" (all film stills courtesy the author)

I love old Westerns. The character of the cowboy is infinitely appealing to me. I love the idea of a man alone in a great expanse of space, in tune with the weather and the needs of his animals. He knows the stars and the landscape almost innately. He is separate from the driving rush of civilization, his time exists for daylight and moonlight. He doesn’t have a Blackberry.

I wanted to find that type of person — the modern equivalent of a Randolph Scott character. So I set out across the north of Finland, searching. And what I found are the main subjects of my film, Aatsinki: The Story of Arctic Cowboys, currently screening at IFC Center in New York City.

Brothers and reindeer herders Aarne and Lasse Aatsinki, are truly that type of cowboy. Over the course of a year and a half, I spent more than nine months with the two brothers and their families. I tried to immerse myself in their lives as fully as possible. I ate dinner with them most nights, babysat their kids, and pretty much stuck to them like glue. They taught me to sew, light a fire, chop wood, cook, train reindeer, and feed sheep. They became my adopted family and my best friends.

Working in the arctic isn’t easy. I had nibbles of frostbite, and when my gear would break, there was nowhere to go to replace it. My batteries would die quickly in the cold, so I kept them in my bra to try to keep them warm after they had been charged. The lenses would also ice and fog when we would move between inside and outside. Because I didn’t speak the language, I usually had no clue what was happening and had to be prepared for anything.

And it was really hard to spend so much time out of communication with people in the United States. The nearest internet connection was about 70 kilometers away, at a little pub in a hotel. I made great friends while I was in Finland, but I missed being able to talk to my boyfriend, my friends, my sister, and my grandparents. That part of it was strangely isolating. So every few days I would drive to the hotel, sit in this pub, and Skype. Some times were easier than others. Every once in a while, a drunk tourist would stumble into the frame and whoever I was talking with would have a good laugh at my situation.

But for the most part, I loved it. I was always much, much colder than any of the herders (which they thought was quite comical), but they always took care of me and lent me gear to keep me dry or toasty. And Finns know how to get warm. Taking sauna was the best part of each day. I think, if I ever retire, it will be some place like that.

It is my hope that the movie will communicate a lifestyle that many people have no concept of. It is about extreme cold, hard work, sunlight, nighttime, leisure time—it is about knowing the land, working with the land, and being connected to it.

In a way, it is also about getting people to reframe the way they see themselves within the context of the natural world. By bringing audiences into the pacing and soundscapes and cycles and light of Lapland, I hope Aatsinki will generate a new perspective—a space for audience members to reframe their very basic ideas about the various ways humans think about and use nature. That was very much my own experience in Lapland, which I hope to share even a little bit through the film.

Aatsinki: The Story of Arctic Cowboys directed by Jessica Oreck is screening through Thursday, January 30 at IFC Center in New York City. Upcoming screenings can be found on the Aatsinki site, where you can also find interactive features and pre-order the DVD. You can also experience a year in the life of a family of reindeer herders in Finish Lapland at Aatsinki Season, the film's companion site. 

Ceremonial South Pole (all images via Google Street View)

You can journey to the end of the Earth without leaving your home through Google Street View's captures of Antarctica. Sure, it's not likely to leave you with the same thrill as first-hand polar exploration, but for those armchair travelers who want to venture to the icy expanse of the South Pole and step into the huts used by famed explorers Robert Falcon Scott and Ernest Shackleton, it's an incredible immersive view.

The project was launched back in 2010 and has expanded over the years as part of Google's World Wonders initiative to make far-flung cultural icons into digital destinations. The Antarctica views, captured with a tripod and fisheye lens for 360 degree views of penguin rookeries and historical polar sites, were created in collaboration with the Polar Geospatial Center at the University of Minnesota and the New Zealand Antarctic Heritage Trust. 

Below are some screencap highlights from wandering Antarctica through Google Street View. Click on each to launch into your own exploration. 

Ceremonial South Pole

Just a short way from the geographic South Pole (also on Street View), is the dramatic Ceremonial South Pole. A mirrored orb is situated on a striped pole, around which are 12 flags representing the 12 nations that signed the original Antarctica Treaty. 

Robert Falcon Scott's Hut

Untouched since 1912, you can step into the wooden shelter used by Robert Falcon Scott's expedition on Cape Evans on Ross Island. 

Ernest Shackleton's Hut

Also on Ross Island at Cape Royds is the hut used by Ernest Shackleton with the British 1907-1909 Nimrod Expedition, which was aimed at reaching the geographic South Pole. 

Penguins of Half Moon Island

You can spin in 360 degrees to see the chinstrap penguins of Half Moon Island, who have a thriving rookery there. 

Adélie Penguin Rookery

And for even more penguins, head to the Adélie Penguin rookery, named in 1840 by French explorer Jules Dumont d'Urville for his wife, Adèle.

The South Pole Telescope

Down at the Amundsen-Scott South Pole Station is the Dark Sector Laboratory, housing a telescope able to view sub-millimeter wavelength observations

Berg Field Center

You can see how modern researchers stock up for field operations at Berg Field Center, packed with tents, sleeping bags, and other provisions.  

Crary Science Center

And finally, for a look into the past there is this Crary Science Center museum at McMurdo Station (note the taxidermy penguin), which also holds labs and offices for its researchers. 

Click here to view all of the available Antarctica locales on Google Street View. 

Polar Week is January 27 - 31, 2014 at Atlas Obscura. Follow along on Twitter (hashtag #PolarWeek), Facebook, Tumblr, Google+, and Kinja. 

Karin and Kathy Kettler, throat singers and drum dancers performing at the Circumpolar Music Festival (via Alaska Dispatch/Vimeo)

Throat singing is an Inuit oral tradition that's been passed on from generation to generation with no record of when it began. According to Watchers of the North's history, this is mostly due to the fact that for a long time the Inuit did not keep any written records or documents. As noted on Canada Pages, Inuit throat-singing is considered in the ethnomusicology as a form of “verbal art.” While this is not the only culture to practice throat-singing—it also exists in the Russian Arctic, Scandinavia, Northern Japan, Tibet, Mongolia, and South Africa—the uniqueness of Inuit practice is how female-centered it is, and how it's based on more of a game than a song. 

The Inuit live mostly in the polar region of northern Canada, stretching from Alaska to Greenland. Inuit throat-singing is practiced mainly in the regions of Nunavut—one of Canada's three polar territories (the other two being the Yukon and Northwest Territories) established in 1999—as well as Northern Quebec and Baffin Island. 

Kenojuak Ashevak, "Katajaktuiit (Throat Singers Gathering)" (1991), color lithograph (courtesy St. Lawrence University, Richard F. Brush Art Gallery)

Map of the Inuit regions of Canada (via statcan.qc.ca)

Karin and Kathy Kettler, sisters from Nunavik in northern Quebec, are among the youngest generation of Inuit throat-singers. At the Circumpolar Music and Dance Festival this past year held in Anchorage, Alaska, they performed and shared their knowledge of throat-singing.

“It's a friendly competition between girls, something they would do while the men were out hunting,” said Kathy in at interview at the conference. Karin added: "It's part of Inuit culture. It's an oral tradition, it's something that can't be written down, it has to be learned from someone else,."

A “game” of throat-singing begins with two women facing each other, standing close and sometimes holding each other's arms. One begins to sing, while the other follows. The game can last up to a few minutes, and ends when one loses her breath, laughs, or breaks concentration in any way. Some sources, such as Pulaarvik Kablu Friendership Centre, cite that it was once practiced with their lips practically touching, the women using their opponent's mouth cavity as a sound resonator.

Throat-singing involves taking deep, heavy breaths, which creates a very unique sound. “It's imitations of the sounds that we hear around us, like animals and tools of nature,” Kathy explained at the conference. Her sister Karin also explained the point of the two-person game of throat-singing: “It's the same sound, but only a half second off from each other, and that's how we can blend our voices. Throat-singing comes from our voice, our throat, and our breathing." 

At Free Spirit Gallery, they explain the meaning of the different tones in Inuit throat-singing. The sounds are "voiced or unvoiced," and produced by inhaling or exhaling. Songs are composed of words in the Inuktitut language, along with haphazard syllables. These random sounds are improvised and inspired from the sounds heard in nature and their surroundings at the time of singing. For example, in a performance entitled “Cleaning” the performers mimic the sound of a dog sled being cleaned. Another song called “Dog and Wolf” is simply the words “dog” and “wolf” in Inuktitut said over and over again. 

Local priests banned throat-singing 100 years ago, however, the ban was lifted in the 1980s and was followed by a revival. In 2001 the first throat-singing conference was held in Puvernituk, Nunavut. While it was once mainly a pastime and game for Inuit women, it has evolved into a source of pride and identity for the Inuit people. Throat-singing was even featured at the 2010 Winter Olympics in Vancouver.

Kathy Kettler explained this "revival" in an interview at the First Americans Festival in 2004: “Throat-singing was almost lost for a while until the elders decided that it would be important for young people to start learning how to throat-sing. In recent years it's come back quite strong. It's really strengthening relationships between the Inuit.” 

The Kettler sisters are just an example of the young generation of Inuit women who are embracing throat-singing. As Kathy stated: "For us we consider throat-singing our strength as Inuit people."

Polar Week is January 27 - 31, 2014 at Atlas Obscura. Follow along on Twitter (hashtag #PolarWeek), Facebook, Tumblr, Google+, and Kinja.