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On moving to Florence a few months ago, I lost many misconceptions I had about the ebullient golden city, namely the realisation that it is, in fact, a glorified village. With the centro storico and its environ all navigable by foot, in over two months I did not step inside a car once, and with Florence’s population running at under 400,000, it was not long before I spotted the same faces around town, greeting them as we made our daily rounds. I spent a great deal of time watching idly the street life of my neighbourhood – a perfectly acceptable pastime in Florence or a hamlet in the Shires but one that would arise immediate suspicion in London.

A village then, though one that gave birth to the Renaissance, invented the modern Italian language and is the final resting place of Galileo and Michelangelo. A village which attracts more than 8 million tourists a year – between April and October there are two foreigners to every Florentine in the city – a prospect that horrified me as I watched the winter turn to spring and the roads lining the Arno become ever thicker with bodies.

But although it is hard to believe that in this most visited and feted of cities there can be anything still left hidden, I also discovered that it only takes a little wander off well-beaten tourist trails to uncover the village that lurks beneath the Renaissance gilding.

When the Piazza del Duomo is so crowded it is impossible to contemplate crossing it to reach the Mercato Centrale at San Lorenzo, I head east instead, to Sant’Ambrogio where American accents are replaced by rapid-fire, heavily aspirated Florentine Italian. As well as a bustling open-air fresh produce market, there is a covered market that is as good – if not as vast – as San Lorenzo’s.

Around the corner is the Cibrèo empire – the restaurant where chef Fabio Picchi made his name serving fiercely traditional Tuscan dishes using the freshest ingredients, as well as a cheaper trattoria, café and greengrocer. Least known of the Cibrèo family is Teatro del Sale, a unique mix of private member’s club, canteen and theatre. Teatro is not exactly a secret but it is squarely aimed at locals, with a nominal membership fee (€5 for foreigners), then a set sum paid at the door for an all-you-can-eat breakfast, lunch or dinner.

In the evening the cover price of €30 includes not only wine but also a show in the small theatre that the large room magically coverts to. The real performance though takes place in the vast kitchen, open to view from the whole dining room, where Picchi himself often cooks, shouting out the names of dishes as they are slapped down on the large table where members help themselves.

Back in the thick of things by the Duomo, I usually ignore the looping queue to ascend Brunelleschi’s dome and duck instead into the Museo dell’Opera del Duomo where a treasure-chest of sculptures from the Duomo, Baptistry and Campanile await the adventurous visitor. The beauty of the pieces here jumps out, removed as they are from their natural setting and set instead in simple wood displays.

As well as an unusual 14th-century painting of a breastfeeding Virgin Mary, there are many gems, the brightest of which is Michelangelo’s Pietà, which he sculpted when he was 80 and intended for his own tomb. Dissatisfied with the stone, he broke the arm and left leg of Christ – they were later restored but the cracks can still be seen. A beautifully mature work, the figure of Nicodemus – which dominates the triangle of figures around Christ – is a self-portrait. Even in the height of the tourist boom I have spent tranquil hours virtually alone with the Pietà.

It is impossible to ignore the wealth of art on offer in Florence but there is a way to make a visit to the likes of the Uffizi and the Accademia bearable: an Amici degli Uffizi card. This clever card gives unlimited free entry into all the state-run museums – and it soon pays for itself. Best of all, it gives you leave to skip the queues.

The centro storico may be splendid but all those towering stone palazzi hanging over narrow alleys filled with Japanese tour groups can leave one gasping for fresh air. My need for peace and tranquillity has always taken me over the Arno to the south side of the city where ochre and burnt umber facades are backed by sloping green hills dense with trees and the elegant figures of cypress trees.

The crowds do cross the Arno to the south side but of those that make it up the hill behind the San Miniato Gate, hardly any veer off the well-trodden path to Piazzale Michelangelo to the Rose Garden which is tucked behind a small gate en route. This oasis of blooms and heady fragrance is only open three months of the year and rewards the intrepid with terraces cut into the hill and embroidered with hundreds of varieties of rose bushes, as well as stunning views over the whole of Florence. Some mornings I find myself contemplating Brunelleschi’s dome from here in perfect solitude.

Coming out of the San Miniato Gate, a sharp right turn onto the Via di Belvedere will take you on one of the prettiest walks in Florence – along the outside of the medieval wall verged with banks of tall grass dotted with wild flowers and papery red poppies.

It leads to the Forte di Belvedere where the sweeping views over the city are unrivalled for not being shared with tour groups. Walking on brings you to birdsong, tumbling Tuscan stone walls and country villas with creeping rose bushes and tumbles of honeysuckle.

Just five minutes out of Florence’s centre and the Tuscan countryside waiting with its olive groves and tall cypress trees. The road leads through Arcetri with its saffron and terracotta coloured villas and the charming church of San Leonardo in Arcetri which sits in a little garden with four cypresses. A plaque outside number 64 marks Tchaikovsky’s stay at the house in 1878 – another soul who found the charms of hidden Florence inspiring.

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