Exclusive gallery by Helena Christensen, below left

FIFTEEN years ago I heard Bruce Springsteen sing “Tramps like us, baby we were born to run” on the car stereo, and took his lyrics literally. I left the Garden State for the Big Smoke and never looked back.

It's not easy being from a state mocked as the “Armpit of America”, although the reason for my departure was more a desire for adventure than embarrassment. More recently I returned to New Jersey, the prodigal daughter from Garden State Parkway Exit 117.

It was time to reconnect with my inner Jersey girl and see my home state and teenage stomping grounds from a fresh, if slightly nostalgic, perspective.

Multimedia

• Exclusive gallery: Amy and Helena in New Jersey

Top 10 US presidential addresses

Riding Bush country, Jimmy Carter's B&B... Martin Symington picks the locations

• Nostalgia tourism in Washington DC

Take the back roads across the USA

Paul Connolly heads off the highway and discovers the real heartbeat of America

• The best places to eat in New York

Sarah Palin's home town haunts

Did the Republican pitbull's home town make her? Shane Shanks searches Wasilla for clues

• Arizona: escaping the US elections

• Obama v McCain fever in Washington

The best places to eat in New York

Nancy Durrant gets the inside tip on the city's best eateries and makes new friends on a foodie adventure

Related Links

• Nostalgia tourism in Washington DC

Detractors have levelled these accusations at New Jersey: industrial, uncultured, suburban; the original “Bridge and Tunnel” types travelling by the coachload to see cut-price Broadway shows.

I put it down to a deep misunderstanding of what it means to live in the shadow of the Big Apple. Did you know that the Statue of Liberty is actually in New Jersey? New Yorkers try to keep it quiet, but it's a fact, Jack.

The greatest contemporary representation of New Jersey must be the long-running television series The Sopranos, though you won't find many natives who actually watch the programme. “Why would I wanna watch that show? I'm livin' it!” was my father's typically shoulder-shrugging Jersey response.

Unfortunately the success of The Sopranos has not translated into more visitors, or even a greater curiosity for the state. If anything, it perpetuates the image of NJ as a crime-ridden, mob-ruled state full of guys that whack, get whacked, and have high-maintenance womenfolk with astronomical beauty parlour bills.

We are a state of fighters and dreamers, full of working-class heroes and proud of it. New Jersey's closest UK comparison would be a high-octane combination of Essex and Liverpool. Girls sport short skirts, big hair, long nails and high heels; guys display muscle bodies and muscle cars, a blue-collar collision of hormones and expectation.

We may live in the shadow of New York City, but New Jersey has a distinct culture all its own. Add this to its 127 miles of beautiful coastline, and there is no need to turn towards Manhattan when you land at Newark airport.

As I approached the Parkway tollbooth I offered my 25 cents to the attendant. “Lady, it's your lucky day!” he smiled. What? “The guy in the car in front just paid your toll. Have a nice day!” Random acts of kindness in New Jersey? Things certainly have changed in the past 15 years.

But some things never change. Keyport, a sleepy town perched on the shores of Raritan Bay, is the place I called home. The glittering lights of Manhattan can be seen across the water, but are really a world away. It is here that my great-grandparents settled, fresh off boats from Italy and Ireland. It is where my grandparents met, on the production line in the local tile factory, where my parents married, and where my father started and still runs his plumbing business. My soon-to-be-sold family home is there, a Victorian clapboard with gingerbread woodwork and wraparound porch. Keyport is a tightly knit community, where breakfast in the local diner can lead to a conversation with the entire restaurant.

My family got together for a feast of pancakes and eggs at the Seaport Diner, an original 1950s joint full of chrome and curves. The owners, Frank and Betty Lapsis, welcome regulars with “How ya doin'”? in a Jersey drawl. My Uncle Tim is a diner enthusiast and the Seaport is his favourite, a rare place where “you can escape now for a moment of then”. He recommends the home-made soups.

Growing up on the New Jersey Shore also means summers full of ice-cream and sand, boardwalks and fun rides. Keansburg amusement park has been providing family entertainment for over a century, with hot-dog stands, jugs of soda and beer, and corn on the cob. My paternal grandparents ran a parking lot here. Bobby, who runs Fun City USA Arcade,, remembers them. In a moment of nostalgic generosity, he gave my sister, Sarah, and me free tokens to play skee ball. This Jersey-style arcade game is a sort of bull's-eye bowling, played with wooden balls smoothed to a sheen by decades of play. The smell of zeppoles - dough dumplings deep fried and dusted with icing sugar - tempted us out of the arcade. I even managed to introduce the delights of the foot-long Double Dog to our photographer, Helena Christensen. She smeared it with ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise and relish, and washed it all down with a banana milkshake.

My later teenage years were spent farther along the coast, aided by the Mustang convertible that my father gave me for my 17th birthday. Alas, the car is long demolished, so my dad lent me his up-to-date model, cherry red with black leather interior. I put the roof down and headed for Asbury Park, the spiritual home of Jersey rock'n'roll with Bruce “The Boss” Springsteen as its godfather.

Asbury Park is a rundown dog of a town, a faded seaside resort that once hosted holidaying US presidents and Hollywood stars. The boardwalk has shut up shop and the beach is quiet, even on the sunniest of days.

Not much has changed since the late 1980s when my friends and I spent endless nights at music venues such as the Fast Lane and the Stone Pony, rocking out to Patti Smith and the Ramones. It wasn't unusual for the Boss to be in the audience, jumping up and down with the rest of the crowd.

The Stone Pony is still going strong, and Asbury Park is undergoing renovations. Things are looking up. But does this mean New Jersey will shed its rough-and-tumble image? Perhaps not, but it is part of NJ's charm. A T-shirt sold in gift shops reads: “New Jersey - Only the Strong Survive.” It's true; I have lived to tell the tale. I hope you will, too.

NEED TO KNOW

Air France (0871 6633777, www.airfrance.co.uk) has return fares from Heathrow to Newark from £323.30.

Further information New Jersey Travel & Tourism (www.state.nj.us/travel).

On a budget The New Jersey Historical Society (001 973 596 8500, www.jerseyhistory.org) in Newark has a museum and library and offers events such as walking tours, lectures and concerts. Some are free, others are at a nominal charge.

Times recommends

• Smugshots special: a new perspective
• The 15 best Mediterranean hotels under £100
• Britain's best rivers for swimming