Somehow I ended up on the email list for the Atlas Obscura website (Atlasobscura.com).
It probably happened as a result of one of the numerous trip-related sweepstakes contests I enter, due to my suffering from a chronic case of wanderlust -- an itch I lack the funds to scratch -- and laboring under the impression that the more contests I enter, the more likely I am to win.
Alas. So far, all I've won is a ton of email newsletters. Atlas Obscura's newsletter is among the few I don't automatically delete.
Each Atlas Obscura comes bearing links to articles that are a "news of the weird," of sorts. These are articles bringing to light geographical locations, pieces of real estate, historical happenings, contests and curios throughout the world that, well, nobody would know about it if weren't for Atlas Obscura. A few for-instances: the secret caretakers' apartments in New York's libraries. The fate of "Hitler's Olympic Village," the lavish living quarters of the athletes who competed in the 1936 Summer Olympics in Germany. A middle-aged (in human years!) hermit crab. The (Sheep) Shearing Championships in New Zealand. The history of Laughing Sally, aka "Laffing Sal," the homely, automated laughing lady and carnival attraction of which several hundred versions were made. (One, labeled "Old Lovable Sally," scared the wits out of youngsters at Little Rock's former Fair Park and has a Facebook page dedicated to her memory.) Although I've delved into many Atlas Obscura articles, there are still probably 50,000 Atlas Obscura emails I intend to "get around to."
Imagine my delight to find there's now a book, Atlas Obscura: An Explorer's Guide to the World's Hidden Wonders by Joshua Foer, Dylan Thuras and Ella Morton (Workman, $35). Foer and Thuras are co-founders of Atlas Obscura; Morton is a "nonfiction writer specializing in the strange and wondrous."
The book -- the culmination of the founders' contention that no, you've not seen or heard of everything -- boasts more than 700 "astonishing, off-the-beaten-path destinations."
There's a very useful geographical table of contents, broken up into continents as well as regions of the United States, Canada and Latin American countries. All 50 states in our union are represented in the book. Arkansas, listed in this country's Southeast region, yields the tale of the Ozark Medieval Fortress in Lead Hill, an edifice that was to be built over the course of 20 years using Dark Ages tools. It didn't progress beyond its foundation; the construction site opened to the public in 2010 and closed two years later due to lack of attendance. (It, too, has a Facebook page.) Mentioned in small print: the mysterious light that hangs out above the railroad track in Gurdon and the Billy Bass Adoption Center at Little Rock's Flying Fish restaurant.
But this is one of those books that you can open to any page and find something fascinating. Pages 2-3: the Silver Swan, a 1770s-era automaton in Durham, England. Page 141: the story of the well-fortified fortress on Sigiriya (aka Lion Rock), a big stone mountain in Sri Lanka. The fortress was built by King Kassapa I, who'd offed his dad, then usurped his brother's right to the throne (his brother ended up with the crown anyway 18 years later). Pages 238-239: fascinating color photos of giant road-trip structures in Australia. Page 334: Wisconsin's House on the Rock, built by an eccentric collector whose clutter tolerance was apparently quite high. Page 385: "Historical Methods of Preventing Premature Burial." Including, uh, tobacco-smoke enemas. Page 441: Trinidad's Pitch Lake, the world's largest asphalt lake. Oh, and there's Galileo's severed middle finger, displayed in Florence, Italy; and those supposed mouths of hell .... You get the drift.
"The book ... truly makes you feel that the world is more wonderful, strange, and beautiful than you ever realized," according to its news release. Indeed. I look forward to holing up in a reading corner and giving the book a thorough go-over. The book's downside? It's likely to worsen any cases of wanderlust.
Let your fingers do the traveling -- across your keyboard!
hwilliams@arkansasonline.com
Style on 10/16/2016