The results of the vote for the revised Seven Wonders of the World have been announced. I have yet to travel to any of the seven. I'm somewhat embarrassed about this. I take little comfort in the fact that Johnny Cash probably missed out on them too.
The problem with the list is that very few voters have been to all the wonders let alone the scores of attractions that would be needed to fill an adequate list of nominees. My rule would be that you can only vote on places you've experienced first hand. With that being the qualification, the most wonderous thing I've seen is the Palace of Versailles. But I'm not going to talk about it. Rather....
While thinking about my seven wonders, I was reminded of one of the most jaw-dropping attractions I've ever seen.
It's pictured above and Frommer's description follows:
Munich's oldest church (1180), known locally as Old Peter, has turned over a new leaf, and it's a gold one at that. The white-and-gray interior has been decorated with gilded baroque accents and trompe l'oeil medallions. It contains a series of murals by Johann Baptist Zimmermann, but nothing tops the attraction of the bizarre relic in the second chapel on the left: the gilt-covered and gem-studded skeleton of St. Mundita. From its resting place on a cushion, it stares at you with two false eyes in its skull. Jewels cover the mouth of its rotten teeth, quite a contrast to the fresh roses usually kept in front of the black-and-silver coffin. The church also has a tall steeple, which you can climb. Colored circles on the lower platform tell you whether the climb is worthwhile: If the circle is white, you can see as far as the Alps
Hey, it's my list, and for now, St. Mundita and her expensive smile make the cut.