You know the problem with Glaswegians? Everyone's so darned friendly. You can hardly move for taxi drivers recommending hidden restaurants, old ladies opening doors for you and people offering to buy you drinks. Bah humbug. On the plus side, after a weekend experiencing Glasgow's incomparable hospitality first-hand, you'll no doubt have uncovered some of the many hidden gems which make it one of Britain's most diverse and dynamic cities. Whether you're sampling the pillow menu at the swanky One Devonshire Gardens hotel (hmmm – what will it be tonight? Goose down? Duck feather?), taking tea at the exquisite Willow Tea Rooms or breezing with effortless cool around the Centre for Contemporary Art, Glasgow has something for everyone. Besides, any city whose patron saint has the indisputably cool name of Mungo is alright by me.

If you're new to the city, get your bearings by taking a trip to the top of the ultra-hip Lighthouse architecture and design centre, tucked away next to Central Station on Mitchell Lane. After browsing its shop you'll probably be weighed down with minimalist sugar cube holders or one of Dominic Skinner's 'dunk' mugs, complete with built-in biscuit shelf (someone give this man a knighthood, please). Still, I managed to drag my haul of goodies up the building's tower and take in panoramic views of the city, including an official sighting of the world's tallest cinema. Having pounded enough stairs to exhaust the Duracell bunny I returned to the ground floor with just enough energy to totter into next door Bar Soba for a feast of Asian fusion dishes in a funky and friendly setting. Yum.

I'm all for audio tours, me. You don't have to traipse around like a sheep after someone carrying an orange umbrella or a loud hailer. You don't have to stop at things you're not interested in. And most of the time they're cheap – nay free. So whilst hordes of tourists queued for the open bus tour at George Square, I was smugly listening to the iToors guide I'd already downloaded to my iPod. This music-themed tour is a pretty good way to get under the skin of Glasgow's lively scene, pointing out some of the city's best (and sweatiest) venues – as well as explaining why the Duke of Wellington statue outside the Gallery of Modern Art invariably sports a traffic cone on its head. You learn something new every day.

Still, by the time I'd reached Charles Rennie Mackintosh's impressive Art School I was ready to abandon my earphones in favour of a homemade tour. I hauled out the architectural map I'd picked up at the Lighthouse and constructed my own route through the pick of the red and blonde sandstone terraces which neighbour Kelvingrove Park, and then up past the University buildings, the Hunterian Museum and into the charmingly cobbled Ashton Lane. I completed my breathtaking circuit of the West End by coming down Byres Road and popping into classy deli and café Kember and Jones for a spot of tea and a meringue as big and fluffy as a pillow.

Daniel Defoe once billed Glasgow as the 'dear green place', and it's not hard to see why once you've left the concrete confines of the city centre behind. Set in lush green surroundings, the recently refurbished Kelvingrove Museum is certainly worth a look, both for the building's graceful architecture and the exhibits inside. Call me superficial, but the machine in the basement that elongates penny pieces was almost as compelling as the life-size Elvis figurine on the ground floor, or – more seriously – the awesome sarcophagus of Pabasa. I'm not sure why my visit was punctuated by the arrival of four Van Gogh impersonators with orange carpet for facial hair and a pot of sunflowers, but it left me chuckling as I headed across the road and around the side of Kelvin Hall to the Museum of Transport.

OK, bear with me – I'm not one of those train-spotting, car-polishing, motorbike-collecting types. Honest. The fact is, you really don't need to be to enjoy an afternoon at Glasgows' Museum of Transport. Yes, it doesn't have the sexiest name in the world, but it does have a police car from the 1970s which looks like Starsky and Hutch might have driven it if they'd hailed from Strathclyde. It also plays host to the friendliest staff known to (Our) man, a minutely detailed reconstruction of a cobbled 1930s Kelvin Street and the March 701 formula 1 car which Jackie Stewart drove to victory in the 1970 Spanish Grand Prix. Best of all, head upstairs to the Clyde Room to see the Oscar winning film 'Seawards the Great Ships'. You might not imagine a short film about boat-building on the Clyde could be that riveting, but its extraordinary cinematography, near-poetic narration and inspired editing genuinely capture a sense of Glasgows' illustrious industrial past. If it's good enough for the Academy, it's good enough for me.

There can't be many landlords who claim that theirs is 'a pub which wears a smile on its face and its hat at a jaunty angle', but the owner of McPhabbs on Sauchiehall Street is certainly one. He may not have been wearing a hat, but local musician Sam (lead singer/songwriter of Mother and the Addicts) was smiling broadly enough for me to approach him for a chat about the best places to catch a gig in the city. After recommending the eminently cool veggie-venues Mono and 13th Note, Sam offered to show me the sights at first-hand, leading the way towards the town centre and the legendary Nice 'n' Sleazy. The pleasantly haphazard graffiti on the walls and a well-stocked jukebox make the upstairs bar an ideal place to grab a warm-up drink before heading into the basement to cut some sweaty moves into the night.

I woke late the next day to the beginnings of tinnitus and a hankering to follow up some of Sam's other recommendations from the night before. My first stop was the well-stocked record shop attached to Mono in King's Court, before I began exploring the delights of Glasgow's burgeoning contemporary art scene around the King Street, Saltmarket and Trongate areas. Sorcha Dallas has played host to a string of acclaimed Glaswegian artists whilst Q Gallery is the first space in Scotland dedicated to gay art. Transmission, Intermedia and Sharmanka provide yet more aesthetic entertainment (ever seen a kinetic sculpture before?!) Just make sure you check opening times and programmes to avoid turning up to a closed shop.

Having spent a day feasting on Glasgow's cultural side, my sights soon turned to its culinary delights in the nearby Merchant City. After a pleasant aperitif in stylish John Street, I nipped into the Scot-chic Rab Ha's for a delicately flavoured plate of scallops and a saddle of venison to die for. I had my arm twisted about a quarter of an inch before I gave in to the dessert menu, and then set off towards the bright lights in town for a wee dram before bed.

As I descended the stairs into the Republic Bierhalle the signage outside spelled out the ominous prediction that 'It'll all end in biers'. With such prophetic words ringing in my ears, I decided to embrace the inevitable and wade into the menu of 50-odd beverages. I plumped for Fraoch to start – a highland brew flavoured with heather and myrtle leaves. Once I'd established why the Scots are more famous for their whisky than their ales, I went continental, ordering a crashingly delicious Crocodile from Sweden. With two drinks inside me, it seemed rude not to get involved in a game of beer mat flipping at the neighbouring table, and I was proud to record a flip 'n' catch of 12 mats before being informed by fellow competitor Olivia that I was a mere 100 mats behind the current world record holder. If such Olympian feats sound a little intimidating, practise your technique here. With Olivia – and her friends Laura and John – now acting as group guides, the rest of the evening passed in a blur of beer and good vibes in Firebird on Argyle Street, followed by sumptuous 'Emily Emily' cocktails (presumably these are twice as good as a mere 'Emily') at upmarket piano bar Blue Dog on West George Street.

It's not every day that you get a recommendation for a restaurant in Glasgow from a couple living in Cheltenham who happen to be in Newcastle, en route to Norway. Fortunately I had just such a tip from Tim and Dorothy whom I met during my Tyneside adventure a couple of months ago. You can imagine my delight when I clambered out of bed, flicked back through my notebook and discovered that their recommendation – Rogano – was perfectly placed for a final lunch before my afternoon departure from Central Station. The moment I walked through the door, the 1930s art deco interior made me feel like I'd been transported back in time to a Chicago speakeasy. The swirling carpet, huge champagne buckets and subtle uplighting created a warm and atmospheric authenticity, as I trawled the menu for a suitable dish. A rush of conference guests may have left the oyster bar disturbingly oysterless, but the alternative seafood platter was a treat in itself – thank you Tim and Dorothy for a delightfully decadent afternoon.