It's raining sideways in sun-kissed Miami. The wrong weather is an apt start to a day of inverting the glamorous and hedonistic stereotype of Florida's best known city.

A mecca for travellers who want their cocktail with an umbrella, Miami is not exactly renowned for its depth. 

Not that there's anything wrong with that. No-one can fault Miami for being blessed with good looks. Its dumbing down can be blamed on popular culture, with scenes from countless Hollywood films perpetuating the stereotypes.

Portraying locals parading down promenades in neon-bright G-string swimwear certainly did the city no favours intellectually. TV shows such as Nip Tuck, where Miami was proclaimed to be the shallowest city in the world,  didn't help either.  

So today it's time to test the mettle of Miami on a tour with local operator Travel with Style. We board a bus that feels bulletproof with black reflective paint and heavily tinted windows. It's not your standard tourist vehicle but it's perfect for gawking at the locals. 

The first stop is South Beach. There is no visible glamour on the beach, except for some white tarpaulin tents. They are being set up for Art Basel, one of the largest art festivals in the world, held over five days in December.

To see a cultural exhibition staged at this location, more famous for bikini clad types, is not entirely consistent with Miami's reputation. But before getting carried away, I have to concede the wet weather could be responsible for the lack of bare skin. 

Aside from Art Basel, there is a food and wine festival as well as a world-famous electronic music festival. Our guide Mark is a European migrant to Miami and is passionate about its multiculturalism.

"You can find everything here; from Austrian to Spanish. There are 40,000 Germans in Miami," he tells us.  

Miami is in the youngest region of the US and its terrain is the product of soil meeting coral after the ice age. This geographic detail makes sense anthropologically as well. Miami is a city coming into its own, casting off teenage preoccupations for those more fitting for a quarter life dinner party. 

Miami has had definable eras. In the 1920s it was roaring, with art deco buildings built at such pace that bricks couldn't be procured quickly enough. Concrete was the expedient solution to huge economic growth and the architectural evidence remains today.

In the 1930s, according to Mark, it was called God's Waiting Room or the Nursing Home of America, as the aged population arrived to sunbathe their way through retirement. 

"Miami Beach has now become the American Riviera," Mark says. Its renaissance began post 9/11, when Americans were fearful of travelling abroad. With this, it seems to have shed the reputation cultivated in its 1990s heyday as a celebrity mecca, adored by Gianni Versace and Madonna. 

The city today is driven by finance and tourism. Surprisingly, Miami is the second largest financial district in America after New York City. As for tourism, Miami is a fail-proof formula of sun and sea.

It is also at the forefront of the cruise industry in the US, an industry which shows no sign of abating. In peak season Miami will receive up to 56,000 cruise passengers a day. 

"The usual city tour would take a left here but I am going to take you around the block," Mark says. And it is in the suburb of Coral Gables that the advantage of a local passionate about their hometown becomes apparent. Unknown to tourists, you'd even be hard pressed to find a local familiar with its story. 

George Edgar Merrick was an architect who constructed global villages in Miami in the 1920s. They include a Dutch South African village, French village, French Normandy village, Italian, colonial, French country village and Chinese village. It's a touch surreal but its authenticity extends to the language specific street signs.

The Chinese village has blue lacquer roofs, red doors and bamboo windows. There is a statue of Merrick downtown and he poses holding a roll of planning paper, somewhat awkwardly jutting out from his crotch. "He was very excited about his city," Mark jokes. 

The investigation into Miami's depth continues with a chat to local Angel Blanco who works at the Grand Beach Hotel Miami. "It's an American city but you feel like you are in Caracas," he tells me. He is referring to the community enclave of Little Havana which is studded with Cuban caricatures of old men in shorts rolling cigars and playing the bongos. 

As we roll up on our seemingly bulletproof bus I couldn't feel more conspicuous in this close-knit community. Little Havana has its origins in the mass immigration from Cuba after Fidel Castro took power in 1959. The street has jazz cafes, Cuban cafes and restaurants.

There's also a McDonalds, but even the multinational conglomerate has had to acclimatise to the neighbourhood and has bright mosaic tiles on its walls. 

There is a palpable sense of community at the Maximo Gomez Park, the place to play dominoes. Elderly gentlemen sit in stern concentration at game tables. Some play, some watch, some commentate.

They are all in pairs, except for one. His name is Gabriel Church Rommell and he beckons me over with an open smile and an empty seat. He tells me he should have been Pope with a name like his. 

"Dominoes is a stupid game," he says. "You can learn it in one minute."  And yet he comes to the park every day, despite his distaste for the performance around him. I ask the obvious question. "I come here every day to talk to the people. I'm killing time before time kills me."

It was a brief encounter but it was a trip highlight that certainly put the stigma of soulless Miami to bed. 

In Miami the oft-quoted saying goes like this: "If you don't like the weather, wait ten minutes." As the day ends with sunshine, the saying appears fairly apt. Miami is so multi-faceted that you can make it what you want.

Whether it's glamour, architecture, art or Latino culture, Miami has depth in spades. You just need to dig, far away from the sand. For more information on the best of the US visit www.discoveramerica.com