The 10 Most Unique Cemeteries Around the World

Immaculately manicured hedges are not unusual in cemeteries, but the ones found in Tulcán Municipal Cemetery are basically works of art. In 1936, caretaker Josè María Azael Franco Guerrero began sculpting the trees and hedges of the Ecuadorian cemetery into intricate topiaries. With Pre-Columbian art as his inspiration and the greenery as his canvas, Guerrero spent years crafting Incan figures and different creatures (sometimes real, sometimes mythical). He was buried in the cemetery when he died in 1985, and his epitaph fittingly reads, “A cemetery so beautiful, it invites one to die.” However, his impressive topiaries live on and are now shaped by his sons and other staff.

Just off the east coast of Madagascar lies the small island of Nosy Boraha (previously known as Île Sainte-Marie), which during the late 17th century and throughout the 18th century, was a pirate hot spot. Notable pirates such as William Kidd, known as Captain Kidd, and Henry Every, or Long Ben to his fellow buccaneers, lived intermittently on the island, but the only pirate presence that remains today—other than undiscovered buried treasure—is a haphazard cemetery.

There are 30 pirate gravestones on a hill overlooking the island’s main bay. None of the remains have been formally identified, so it’s unclear exactly which pirates found their eternal resting place under the scenic palm trees—dead men tell no tales, after all. In true pirate style, a few of the tombstones are engraved with the classic skull and crossbones design.

Ben & Jerry’s regularly launches new flavors, but not all are hits. The ice cream manufacturer has a comical way of memorializing their fallen flavors: an ice cream cemetery. Visitors who take a tour of the Ben & Jerry’s factory in Vermont can pay their respects at the Flavor Graveyard (although technically, graveyards are specific to churches). The tombstones of the “dearly de-pinted” can also be viewed online.

Crème Brûlée, Wild Maine Blueberry, and Dublin Mudslide are just a few of the flavors whose unpopularity drove them to an early grave. Each granite headstone displays a picture of the ice cream in a cone with angel wings and a rhyming epitaph. For example, Holy Cannoli’s (1997-1998, RIP) reads, “Now in front of the pearly gates, / Holy Cannoli sits and waits. / What brought its ruin no one knows, / Must have been the pistachios.”

A massive cross rises out of the sea just off the coast of Camiguin Island, the Philippines, marking the spot of the Sunken Cemetery. Below the waves are the remains of graves that were plunged into the ocean during the 1871 eruption of the nearby Mount Vulcan. Visitors can view the commemorative cross from the shore, take a boat out to the platform on which the cross stands, or even go snorkeling to see the ruins of the stone cross grave markers that are now resting on the sea floor.

As well as unintentional graves at the bottom of the ocean, the Philippines is also home to an intentional grave site in the air. The wooden coffins of the indigenous Kankanaey people hang from the sides of cliffs in Echo Valley, Sagada, which is about an 8.5-hour drive from Manila. The coffins are usually carved by the person soon-to-be occupying the space. Once they have taken up residence, the coffin is either stacked in a cave (the nearby Lumiang Cave is full of coffins) or dramatically suspended from a cliff face. It is thought that this brings the deceased closer to the afterlife—think of it like giving the souls of the dead a little boost.

This gravity-defying funerary practice is not exclusive to the Philippines, although the Echo Valley examples are the most well-known. Hanging coffins can also be found in China and Indonesia.

Located in the middle of the ocean between New Zealand and Chile is Point Nemo, the farthest place from land on Earth and the bullseye for the Spacecraft Cemetery. Technically, this area is known as the South Pacific Ocean Uninhabited Area, but that isn’t as catchy. When spacecraft reach the end of their lives, they are intentionally crashed into this remote part of the ocean to limit the potential damage caused by their breakup upon re-entry into Earth’s atmosphere. The splash landings are far from precise, though, resulting in hundreds of parts of spacecraft littered across thousands of miles of the sea floor. The International Space Station will be making its way to this watery grave in 2031.

Epitaphs often only reveal the positive aspects of a person’s life, but Stan Ioan Pătraş, whose job was to carve and paint the wooden crosses for the cemetery in Săpânța, instead decided to engrave hilariously honest poems. This injection of gallows humor on the bright blue crosses led to the Romanian cemetery becoming known as the Merry Cemetery. While Pătraş died in 1977, others have kept the tradition alive.

For example, the inscription on Ioan Toaderu’s cross ends with, “One more thing he loved very much. / To sit at a table in a bar. / Next to someone else’s wife.” Along with a poem, each cross also features a colorful painting of the deceased. Some people are depicted enjoying their favorite hobby, but others are gruesomely meeting their maker—be that via car crash or beheading. Sometimes you just have to laugh in the face of death.

In the graveyard beside Old St. Nicholas Orthodox Church in the small village of Eklutna, around a half-hour drive from Anchorage, are what appear to be large, brightly-colored dollhouses. They’re actually spirit houses and are a product of the beliefs of the Dena’ina community, an Alaska Native Athabaskan people, mixing with the beliefs of Russian Orthodox missionaries who arrived in the area in the 1830s.

The Dena’ina practice of cremation was forbidden when they converted to Russian Orthodoxy. As a result, Aaron Leggett, curator at the Anchorage Museum, explains that they “constructed these spirit houses, where the spirits would have a place to go—and not bother the living until they made that final journey.” That journey being to what the Dena’ina call “the High Country.” According to Athabaskan tradition, what is taken from the Earth must be returned, so the houses are left to disintegrate over time.

If you’ve ever wanted to dine amongst the dead, then The New Lucky Restaurant in India is the place for you. When construction began on the site, an old cemetery was uncovered, but instead of disturbing the graves and risking a vengeful spirit situation like in Poltergeist (1982), owner Krishnan Kutti simply built around the tombs and made them a part of his restaurant.

There are 12 green stone coffins scattered throughout the dining area, all of which are cordoned off with metal fences. No one is exactly sure who rests within the sarcophagi, but it is thought that they may be the followers of a 16th-century Sufi saint whose tomb lies nearby. Although eating so close to entombed bodies may be unappetizing to some, Kutti’s business has flourished over the years.

In some Serbian villages, it has become increasingly common—for those who can afford it—to build elaborate mausoleums that look like tiny houses. Why? “We need a roof above our heads to sit down and have a coffee when we visit our dead,” says a resident of Smoljinac, one of the villages that has a cemetery featuring these houses. The structures often have tables and chairs inside, providing a comfortable place for the living to reminisce about their departed loved ones. Some of the small buildings even have electricity. Miniature house mausoleums can also be found in the villages of Šapine and Trnovče.