We sunbathed in the beaches of Florida. We devoured juicy peaches in Georgia. We gaped wide-eyed at the cotton plantations of Alabama. We danced our pants off to jazz in New Orleans. We scarfed down an army’s worth of BBQ in Texas. We saw the world’s most breathtaking sunsets in New Mexico, and drove through cactus-covered mountains in Arizona. And finally…we unpacked our suitcases in coastal-lined Cali.

We road tripped 3,000 miles from the East Coast to the West Coast, bags and furry brother in tow. Before I get any further, let’s meet the killer road squad.

Badass, I know. Together, we saw monuments I had read about in my high school textbooks. We ate classic American southa’n comfort foods that I’d always known about, but never tried. We witnessed landscapes that I’d seen in countless Western movies. It was all so familiar – yet all so new.

Is it possible to live in a country your entire life, and realize there’s still a lot you don’t know??

After being out of the country for four years, it was one hell of a way to get back in touch with my roots. Talk about reverse culture shock! Man, did I learn a lot about this place I call home.

Here they are. 3,000 miles, 8 takeaways.

1. I’m as much a foreigner here as I am abroad.

I walked into Dixie’s Catfish Shack – a tiny family owned shack in Atmore, Alabama, “servin’ up the state’s fraaeshest deep fraaad Catfish.” There were stuffed deer and geese hanging on the walls (RIP), and a waitress that greeted us with a smiling-ear-to-ear grin. “Ya’ll ladies must not be from here! Where ya’ll from?!” She asked excitedly. When my mom responded with her very “New Yawk” accent, everyone in the room stopped to look at us. I overheard one woman say “did you see that girl? She was taking pictures of all the dead animals on the wall!” (guilty). I immediately recognized this alien-esque feeling all too well: you know, that feeling when every set of eyeballs in the room is fixed on you and you swear you must have green skin and a unicorn horn growing out of your forehead. Except those other times were in remote villages of Europe and Asia.

2. Buying a gun is like buying a chocolate bar.

Yes, you read that sign right: “Buy an engagement ring and get a free hunting rifle.” Lovestruck men, anyone popping the question soon??? Then there was that time I was in a Texas Walmart…where the rifle section was just a few aisles away from the chocolate section. What I came to learn, was that pretty much anywhere in the south or west of the country, you can find a side-of-the-road store with a big “GUNS” sign on it. And it’s safe to assume that at least a handful of people in any given public place has a gun on them. Call me an ignant’ Yankee, but I was shocked it was that easy. I remember back to Spain, when my friend asked me “does everybody really own guns in the US?!” I said “nahhh, the movies just make it seem like that. I don’t know anyone with a gun.” UH, sorry friend. I take it back.

3. The rumors are true. It’s big. Really, REALLY big.

I grew up in the New York metro area, where you can drive for 30 minutes and cross through Connecticut, New York and New Jersey. In fact, we’d often go to the state over to grab dessert. Everything in the Northeast is condensed, and when I say condensed, I actually mean on top of each other. Driving out west, my little cramped mind was BLOWN. I mean holy moly…it took an entire hour just to get from one town in Texas to the next. And to get through the entire whopping state of Texas? 10 hours of driving. That’s just one state! And then there are the towering mountains of Colorado whose peaks pierce through the clouds, the never-ending deserts of Arizona, and those big, wide open skies of New Mexico that seem like an eternal blue abyss.

4. People outside of NYC are (usually) way nicer.

If you smile at someone on the streets of New York, they’ll avoid eye contact with you like the plague and cover their purse. “What the hell does she want?!” they’ll say. I always thought this was the “American way”. Turns out…it’s just the grumpy, always PMS-ing, in a race to go nowhere, NYC way. The farther from NY we got, I was shocked at how friendly, kind, patient and willing to help everyone was. Take Zo, for instance (mah’ dude pictured above). He’s a leather artist that lives in New Orleans, and what started as strictly a business transaction fixing Guacamomma’s leather watch, turned into a series of generous transaction where he went SO out of his way to help us out. No money, no thanks accepted. (shoutout to @zocentric and his leather masterpieces on instagram!).

5. Flat places freak me out.

I was 35 miles (56 kilometers) away from Houston, Texas… and I saw it. The whole damn city, skyline and all. Am I hallucinating? I must be going damn crazy in this car.  But I wasn’t going crazy. It was just that flat. After driving through the entire flat-ass state of Texas, I’ve learned something about myself; I need mountains. Or at least hills. Or a mound of dirt. Driving through the perfectly flat lands of Alabama (pictured above), Florida, Louisiana and Texas without a hill in sight for days made me start questioning my sanity – am I a tiny ant driving a tiny car in someone’s twisted video game?

6. New Orleans food > all other food.

Now for a close up.

I’ll never stop dreaming/ drooling about these bacon wrapped shrimp n’ grits from Mr. B’s. Creole food won my whole heart. And quite frankly, so did New Orleans. Its cuisine is completely different from the rest of country, with flavors pulling from its French, Caribbean, West African and deep southern American influences. Seafood gumbo, oysters Rockefeller, jambalaya, éttouffée, mmm MMMMMM! The complex, rich sauces and bold spices were much more than just “good food”. They were an experience. Oh, and the best restaurant I’ve ever eaten at IN MY LIFE (I kid you not) happened here. If you’re in NOLA, promise me you’ll go to Jaques-Imo’s.

7. Crossing into a new state is like entering a new country.

It’s wild, really. It was flat nothingness for miles upon miles…and then we crossed the “Welcome to New Mexico” border. Immediately, the land became more hilly and textured. Next thing we knew, we were driving straight towards the mountains, passing charming adobe-styled houses and signs that read “green chile here”. Every state has its own vibe, its own landscape, its own architecture, and its own charm (or lack thereof).

8. This is one helluva beautiful country.

I didn’t appreciate the U.S. in all its beauty before. I’d heard my whole life about the diversity of its landscapes, the enormity of its mountains and the vastness of its skies. I’d been so focused on exploring more exotic lands abroad that I overlooked what’s been right in front my nose my whole life (well, within 3,000 miles of my nose). Okay USA, I’ll hand it to you –  you’re impressive. Sometimes, you’ve got to see it to believe it.

What have you learned from exploring your own country? Have you dreamed of taking a USA road trip?! Tell us yo’ story below!