Get up close and personal at this Fresnel Lens.

A lightship turned museum, outfitted with artifacts from the vessel's past as part of the U.S. Lighthouse Service.

Honoring combatants from Portsmouth who served in Cuba and the Philippines during the Spanish-American War.

Dedicated to a veritable Houdini among P.O.W.s who escaped imprisonment on five separate occasions.

The childhood home of the famous general's mother is now a small, walled garden.

This cannonball stands as a reminder of the final act of a fleeting governor amidst a revolution.

An 83-foot tall granite obelisk honors the legacy of Dr. King in the heart of Norfolk's Black community.

A cement mixer-turned-kaleidoscope in downtown Norfolk offers different views of the city.

This old-fashioned carhop restaurant gave the world the waffle cone.

One tiny triangular park commemorates the victims of a yellow fever epidemic—many of whom are buried right below the grass.

The branches of this sprawling cedar tree are laden with wishes big and small.

America's second-oldest brick baseball stadium was home to a legendary WWII series that only sailors got to see.

This statue is dedicated to Grace Sherwood, the last person in Virginia to be convicted of being a witch.

Scenic mount trashmore, Virginia Beach's most curious waterfront still has a couple of secrets.

Headquarters of the legendary clairvoyant's readings, spiritual hospital, and massage school.

This environmental engineering marvel keeps salt water from the Elizabeth River.

An out-of-the-way wildlife haven with a rich and storied past of harboring thousands of fugitive slaves, or "Maroons" during the mid 1800s.

The eccentric and colorful pavilions of Tower Grove park are a beloved and overlooked symbol. 

Hundreds of graffiti artists have decorated this flood-wall on the west bank of the Mississippi River.

Dating back to 1812, this is the oldest racecourse in the Southern Hemisphere.

The birthplace of Karl Marx is now a museum dedicated to the communist revolutionary's life and work.

The last bastion of Roman presence north of the Alps looms over a German town.

While you wait to cross the street at a traffic light in Mainz, you might notice that the light is staring back at you.

Every half hour the eye-rolling clock face sticks out its tongue to mock the good citizens of Koblenz.