It's like a law of the universe - every box must contain a cat or the planet will explode or something.
Mine just likes hidey holes. Moved into the new house, it's got one of those hideous 1980's brick built TV benches in it, complete with the cubby hole for your VCR. Within 10 seconds of releasing the furball into her new surroundings she was straight in there. Thankfully this time I'd pre-empted her and made sure it was an easily retrievable hole following previous house moves where she'd ended up under kitchen cabinets and halfway up the chimney breast (which called for Operation Tuna to extract the cat in that case).
