Welcome to Hampton Roads!

Welcome to the Hampton Roads community!

Thank you for taking time to explore this region that we call home. The more you dig, the more you'll find that there is a lot to love about Hampton Roads. Beautiful natural resources, various local attractions, affordable living and a strong economy make many proud to call this a great place to live.  We hope that our Newcomers Guide can help you find the resources you need as you transition to life here.

We asked some Virginian-Pilot columnists and bloggers to tell us what they liked about Hampton Roads.

Here’s what they said:

Mike Gruss
Features columnist

Five years ago, when I moved to Hampton Roads, one of my friends called and asked how I liked Virginia. I told her it was going well.
“How could it not?,” she replied. “The word 'Beach’ is in the name.”

That’s true, but it’s not a sole indicator for success. Of course, the water is great, and I still get a kick out of seeing dolphins. I’ve learned to savor scallops and scrounge for scrumptious affordable shrimp, which is an oxymoron in the Midwest, where I came from. Here are a few of the other things I love about Hampton Roads:

Trying to figure out the science behind the bridge-tunnels,  walking through Colonial Williamsburg without paying (although, sometimes I pay), feeling nostalgic about architecture after driving past Scope, air shows on I-264 as Navy pilots practice maneuvers, the Mike & Bob show on 96X, saying you’re going to “take a ferry” somewhere, regular citings of Mr. Peanut, school being called the night before a pending snowstorm,  listening to natives pronounce “Portsmouth” and “Norfolk,”  knowing why “high tide” is important, restaurants on the water,  watching two people dressed as hamburger buns flop on each other at a Tides game, the Bier Garden, listening to the crowd go crazy during “Ice Cream & Cake” at The Ted, the simplicity of the name The Great Bridge Bridge, businesses that refuse to succumb to “Hampton Roads” and still cling to “Tidewater,”  how the houses in Sandbridge have names, and the best part yet, the governor has a vacation place here.

But my friend is right: It’s also great to have Beach in the name.

Mike’s column runs each Monday, Wednesday and Saturday in The Daily Break.

Kerry Dougherty
Metro columnist

Hampton Roads is the exact opposite of a puppy.

A puppy is instantly adorable.  So what if that cute puppy turns into an unfortunate-looking dog with bad breath and skin problems that barks for no reason and tinkles on the rug? You love the mutt. Years later he gazes at you through cataract eyes and your heart still melts.

Not so with this little piece of Southeastern Virginia.

Spend some time here and you’ll embrace the place. But like most deep relationships, it takes time.

I don’t know anyone who arrived in Tidewater – yes, some of us still call it that – from somewhere else and was struck dumb by its beauty. Especially those of us who arrived by air. You disembark and are tossed into fast-food-convenience stores and quickie lube land.

Where’s the water, you wonder? The skyline? The charm? If jets could land on the Boardwalk or in Ghent, it’d be love at first sight. But airports are always located on the edge of ugly, and ours is no different.

I came here for a job one hot humid day in August of 1984. I surveyed the scene through a taxicab window on my way into downtown Norfolk. I swore I’d be gone by spring.

That was before I saw the sun sink over the Chesapeake Bay. Before I stayed out all night and watched it rise over the glassy Atlantic. Before I saw my first movie at the Commodore. Before I ate my first crab cake at the old Duck-In. Before I partied with evacuees at the old Cavalier Hotel during Hurricane Gloria. Before I flew a kite at Mount Trashmore. Before I saw Fourth of July fireworks over the Elizabeth River. Before I flew with the Blue Angels.

Oh, I could go on. But my smelly old dog is pacing. You know what that means.

Kerry’s column appears in the Hampton Roads section.

Roger Chesley
Metro columnist

The scalding sand at my feet. A thick page-turner in my hands. A cold beverage at my feet. My wife at my side. And our children laughing and jumping in the surf.

Bliss.

For this former city boy, who went to the beach fewer than a half-dozen times growing up, a trip to the water is both fun and relaxing. Be it at Sandbridge, the Oceanfront or Outer Banks, the journey is one of the best features of living in Hampton Roads.

Roger's column appears in the Hampton Roads section.




Victoria Hecht
Home section editor

What is this wonderful place we call Hampton Roads?

It’s catching a glimpse of crabbers checking their pots in the early-morning light.

It’s sweaty-backed pickers bent over rows of strawberries, plucking the juiciest gems for spring pies.

It’s savoring a summer crab picking with good friends and a few brews.

It’s Navy jets stitching contrails across the afternoon sky.

It’s the swell of American pride inspired by crisp dress whites and colorful insignia.

It’s drinking in pink sunsets to the backdrop of coal piers.

It’s waterfront cranes, our industrial sentinels, silhouetted against the evening sky.

It’s the glow of Harbor Park lights, beckoning us to root for the home team.

It’s dozing in bed to the rumble of Norfolk Southern trains in the distance.

It’s being mesmerized by the bridge-tunnel’s twinkling lights cutting through the blackness of night.

And, most of all, it’s the joy of knowing that all of this is ours.

Victoria’s column, Homefront, runs each Saturday in the Home section.




Don Luzzatto
Editorial writer

If you want a truly local delicacy of the sea, one you can’t find anywhere and one cooked by a group of civic-minded gentlemen who didn’t get enough sleep, head to the Elks Lodge in Suffolk. You’ll know when because the sign out front will announce the arrival of a “herring breakfast” – a sure signal that fall is on the way .

You pay $6 at the door (or did last year) and for your money get a plate filled with small cornmeal pancakes, cooked apples, a patty of hash browns, an egg if you want it and the reason you’re here: The herring. And not just any herring. This has been corned (read “salted, preserved”). As if that didn’t make it tasty enough, the fish also has been deep-fried.

The taste is indescribable. The breading is as crisp as glass. Corning has made the fish salty, almost meaty. It tastes something like a vaguely fishy bacon, but without the smoke. Friends dose it with hot sauce or vinegar.

Me? I just eat the fish, sitting at one of the long communal tables with friends and my boys, watching faces I know come and go. I drink coffee and talk politics, lingering to watch the candidates work the tables, enjoying a fine way to begin another Saturday morning.

Don’s column appears each Friday on the Opinion pages.




Malcolm Venable
Former music, style and pop culture writer

When I moved here from New York City, I tried to believe I was doing so with an open mind, but I was convinced I was heading to a cultural wasteland. I was pleasantly surprised to discover, though on an obviously smaller scale, many of the things I liked about New York. Tidewater has a thriving arts and culture scene, great nightspots and terrific restaurants. (Shopping, honestly, leaves a bit to be desired for the male fashion victim, but that’s why we have the Internet.)

To boot, the many local musicians and fledgling fashion upstarts – not to mention the region’s continued growth and march toward cosmopolitanism – make living here flush with the promise of being on the verge, of watching something develop before your eyes. That’s exciting.

When I get restless, I drive to Richmond or D.C.  or hop a plane to New York or Miami – affordable destinations that are so close you spend more time in the airport than you do the skies. The best part? When I come home, I get relatively uncongested roads, breathtaking scenery and a sense of relaxed calm I have yet to find anywhere else. I love it here.