Check out a surreal cabinet of curiosities where the taxidermy is dandy, the shrunken heads are real, and a preserved mummified cat glares at you from a Victorian display case. The Viktor Wynd Museum is less a museum, more a gothic fever dream. There’s erotic art. There’s a two-headed kitten. It’s weird. It’s wonderful. It’s deliciously unhinged.

Tucked into the dusty attic of an old church near Borough Market lies Europe’s oldest surviving surgical theatre. And yes, it’s as chilling as it sounds. Complete with bone saws, leech jars, and wooden benches for grim-faced students, this place hurls you back to a time when anesthesia was optional and screaming was expected.

Located within the Royal College of Surgeons, this museum is a parade of preserved anatomy: bones, skulls, organs floating in jars — the kind of collection that makes your inner biology nerd squeal and your inner vegan reconsider lunch. Recently refurbished and gleaming with eerie pride, it’s not for the faint of stomach.

This is not your typical museum. It’s a time-traveling theatrical experience where you silently wander through ten candlelit rooms of a preserved 18th-century house, staged to look as though the residents just stepped out — or perhaps died mysteriously mid-dinner. There are smells of oranges and woodsmoke, creaking floorboards, and a persistent sense that you’re being watched.

Forget the sanitized prisons of film. The Clink — from which all other clinks are named — was one of England’s oldest and most notorious jails. Today, it offers a hands-on (sometimes literally, with chains) exploration of medieval punishment. Expect grim tales, torture instruments, and the occasional ghost story whispered from the walls.

Okay, he’s fictional. But try telling that to the staff, who stay firmly in character as Victorian housekeepers and detectives. Set inside 221B Baker Street, the museum recreates Holmes’ world with delightful obsession — including wax figures of Moriarty that will haunt your dreams.

Part Arabian Nights, part Victorian fever dream, Leighton House was painter Frederic Leighton’s bold rejection of minimalism. Inside: Islamic tiles, peacock-blue walls, gold domes, and a whispering indoor fountain. It’s opulent, surreal, and unforgettable.

Yes, a museum exclusively dedicated to fans — as in the dainty, foldable, swooshy kind, not the ones that cool your laptop. The Fan Museum is surprisingly riveting, offering centuries’ worth of fashion, flirtation, and symbolism — all packed into one of the quirkiest museums in the city. With fans used for secret messages, mourning rituals, and dramatic exits, it’s a story told through fluttering elegance.