Almost every town has monuments of one sort or another—war memorials, statues of long‑gone heroes, or artistic installations celebrating a historic moment. Among these countless markers you’ll stumble upon 10 strange wonderful creations that make you pause, grin, or even shiver. Some are famous, some are hidden gems, but all of them manage to stick in the mind long after you’ve walked past.
Most of the world’s monuments blend into the scenery, becoming background scenery for daily commutes. Yet a handful stand out because they are massive, bizarre, or simply impossible to ignore. Below we count down the ten most unusual, awe‑inspiring, and downright eerie monuments you can actually visit.
Why These 10 Strange Wonderful Monuments Capture Our Imagination
10 The Child‑Eater Fountain At Bern
Back in 1545, the council of Bern, Switzerland, hired the sculptor Hans Gieng to replace an aging fountain that had fallen into disrepair. The original work remains a mystery, but Gieng’s replacement was anything but ordinary. He fashioned a massive bronze figure of a hulking man devouring a baby, while clutching another frightened infant and a sack brimming with more tiny victims.
The exact symbolism of the grotesque tableau is still debated, though locals often warn visitors: keep your wailing infants at home. The giant appears to savor each bite, even swallowing the child’s head with a disturbing relish that has given Bern a reputation for sleepless nights.
Locals add an extra layer of legend: the fountain, known as the Kindlifresserbrunnen (“Ogre Fountain”), supposedly flows with wine on Christmas Eve. Legend says that anyone who drinks this wine becomes possessed by the Devil and may develop an insatiable appetite for cherubs. Whether fact or folklore, the eerie aura endures.
9 St. Wenceslas Riding A Dead Horse Upside Down
The bustling Wenceslas Square in Prague houses a conventional statue of St. Wenceslas, the saint‑king celebrated in the beloved Christmas carol. Dressed in a military uniform, helmet, and wielding a lance, he looks every bit the heroic leader one would expect from a 10th‑century monarch.
Wenceslas himself was a pivotal figure in Czech history, remembered as a fair ruler who contrasted sharply with his murderous brother, Boleslaus the Cruel. His legacy lives on in the square, where tourists often snap photos of the upright, dignified rider.
Hidden away inside the Lucerna Pasáž, however, is a far more unsettling tribute: a replica of the saint perched atop a dead horse that hangs upside down from the ceiling. Created by the provocative Czech artist David Cerny, the piece is thought to jab at both the saint’s iconic status and the political climate under President Václav Klaus, though the exact message remains open to interpretation.
8 Leshan Giant Buddha
When it comes to colossal stone figures, the Leshan Giant Buddha in Sichuan, China, takes the cake. Carved directly into a sheer sandstone cliff, this massive Buddha measures an astonishing 71 metres (233 feet) tall, earning it the title of the largest pre‑modern statue and the biggest stone Buddha ever created.
The carving project began in the eighth century, as monks sought a spiritual guardian to watch over the confluence of three turbulent rivers. The sheer scale of the undertaking, combined with the remote, rugged terrain, has helped preserve the statue through centuries of weather and human activity.The monk who launched the endeavor, a devout figure named Haitong, was determined to calm the river’s violent currents. When local officials threatened to halt the work, Haitong allegedly gouged out his own eyes in a dramatic display of devotion, convincing the authorities to let the project continue—perhaps fearing what else he might sacrifice.
Although Haitong never lived to see the final masterpiece, his sacrifice paid off: the massive stone Buddha altered the river’s flow, depositing debris that softened the water’s fury right where the statue’s serene eyes gaze onward. The result was a calmer river, a testament to the monk’s vision.
Ironically, even if Haitong had survived to witness the completed Buddha, he would never have been able to see it properly, as the statue’s lofty perch places it far above any natural viewpoint. Perhaps that was a mercy, sparing him the disappointment of a view he could never truly enjoy.
7 The Alton Barnes White Horse
In 1812, a modest Wiltshire farmer named Robert Pile paid a modest £20 to a man known only as Jack the Painter to design and cut a giant horse into the hillside near Alton Barnes. This venture was one of nine white‑chalk horses created across the region during that era, though the exact motivation behind the flocks of equine hill figures remains a mystery.
The design was painstakingly carved by stripping away tons of soil, then filling the recessed outline with chalk so the silhouette would blaze white against the verdant downs. The result was meant to be a striking landmark visible from miles around.
Jack the Painter turned out to be something of a swindler. He outsourced the labor to another worker, who abandoned the job midway after Jack vanished with the payment. Undeterred, Robert Pile eventually financed a second round of work, ensuring the horse was finally completed and could proudly gallop across the hills.
Today, the Alton Barnes White Horse stands roughly 55 metres (180 feet) tall and 49 metres (160 feet) long. It has been re‑chalked multiple times over the centuries, preserving its brilliant white form for modern eyes. Even now, it gallops silently across the Wiltshire landscape, a testament to perseverance and a curious piece of countryside art.
6 A Giant Thumb
César Baldaccini, a French sculptor associated with the Nouveau Réalisme movement, earned fame for crafting striking works from unconventional materials such as compacted cars and industrial scrap. Among his most eye‑catching pieces is a towering bronze rendition of his own thumb.
Standing six metres (about 20 feet) tall, this bold thumb sculpture is the second in a series, the first having reached an astonishing twelve metres (40 feet). Baldaccini never publicly explained the meaning behind the work, but its unmistakable gesture seems to convey a universal “thumbs‑up”—a simple, affirmative sign that transcends language and culture.
5 The Georgia Guidestones
Erected in 1980 deep in the Georgia countryside, the Guidestones were commissioned by a mysterious figure who went by the name R.C. Christian. The identity of this patron remains shrouded in secrecy, adding an aura of intrigue to the massive granite slabs.
The monument consists of six towering granite pieces inscribed with a set of ten “guidelines” for humanity, etched in eight modern languages. These commandments cover topics ranging from population control to environmental stewardship, even suggesting that reproduction be “guided” to favor the strongest and most adaptable humans.
Beyond the textual messages, the Guidestones incorporate astronomical features: a hole precisely aligned with the North Star, a capstone that functions as a solar calendar, and other celestial markers whose purposes are still debated. Rumors also claim a hidden time capsule lies at the base, awaiting the day when humanity might finally decipher its secrets.
4 Hand Of The Desert
Deep within the Atacama Desert—one of the driest places on Earth—sculptor Mario Irarrázabal placed an eleven‑metre (36‑foot) hand that appears to be emerging from the barren sands. The stark contrast between the delicate human form and the unforgiving desert landscape creates a powerful visual statement.
According to the artist, the hand commemorates the victims of torture and injustice endured during Chile’s military regime, symbolising their resilience, love, and unbreakable spirit. Unfortunately, the remote location also makes the sculpture a frequent target for graffiti and vandalism, a paradox that highlights both the fragility and the enduring defiance of those it honours.
3 The Hanging Man
Strolling through Prague’s Old Town, a passerby might glance up and see a lone figure hanging from a flagpole, one hand gripping the pole while the rest of his body dangles. The sight often triggers alarms, with onlookers fearing a desperate suicide attempt.
In reality, the “hanging man” is a bronze statue of Sigmund Freud, crafted by the same provocative artist, David Cerny, who also created the upside‑down horse. The piece is meant to embody Freud’s own fear of death—a paradoxical nod to the founder of psychoanalysis, who spent his career dissecting the anxieties of others.
Cerny’s reputation for controversy predates this work; he famously painted a Soviet tank pink—a bold act of rebellion against a monument meant to celebrate the liberation of Prague after World War II. The act landed him in brief jail, cementing his status as a daring provocateur in the Czech art scene.
2 The Dunmore Pineapple
In 1761, the eccentric Earl of Dunmore commissioned a summerhouse on his Scottish estate, but he didn’t stop at any ordinary design. Fascinated by the exotic pineapple—a fruit that, at the time, was a symbol of wealth and rarity—he ordered a building shaped like a giant pineapple.
The resulting structure soars to 11.2 metres (37 feet) tall, its spiky dome perched atop four concealed chimneys that once vented heat to a hothouse below. Inside, the hothouse nurtured a variety of tropical fruits and vegetables, including, fittingly, actual pineapples.
One whimsical footnote: had bananas been as widely available in 18th‑century Scotland as they are today, the Earl might have opted for a different fruit altogether. Thankfully for history lovers, the pineapple remains the standout centerpiece of this quirky architectural marvel.
1 The Sinking Library
Outside the State Library of Victoria in Melbourne, a striking stone fragment appears to be disappearing into the earth—a seven‑metre‑wide (23‑foot) architectural remnant that looks as though an ancient library is slowly sinking beneath the ground.
Created by Dutch‑born artist Petrus Spronk, the work—titled Architectural Fragment—is part of a series of sunken installations scattered across the globe. Spronk intended the piece to reflect the fragile, transient nature of human knowledge and civilization, prompting viewers to contemplate the impermanence of even our greatest achievements.
Interpretations vary: some see the sinking slab as a metaphor for the erosion of culture and the loss of collective memory, while others view it as a hopeful sign of new ideas breaking through the old, forging fresh pathways for learning. Either way, the artwork invites reflection on how societies rise, fall, and reinvent themselves.