Bouyant in Amiens

In a wooden boat I am drifting through a world of leafy green peace. Willows and ferns overhang the narrow waterway; mysterious little channels lead off into the foliage; there's no sound but for birdsong, and the lapping of water against the bow. In the distance is the outline of one of France's most exquisite cathedrals. The name of this marvellous place? Les Hortillonages water gardens of Amiens, capital of Picardy - and possibly the most overlooked city in France.

Actually, "stitched-up" might be a better way of putting it. Since Lille, 60 miles to the north, grabbed its own Eurostar station (by refusing to allow the track to be laid without it), it has pinched a lot of its neighbour's potential short-break business. To make matters worse, a new Brussels-Paris motorway has taken away a lot of passing traffic from the area. Poor Amiens, you might think.

You'd be wrong. The changes have been to Amiens' gain. It has few crowds, little commercialisation, and a distinct Frenchness missing from the more popular short-break towns. It's less than an hour-and-a-half from the coast across a rolling Picardy landscape of golden wheatfields and sleepy little villages, and if you wanted to combine, say, a quick stock-up of booze in the channel ports with a slice of genuine French culture, there are few better places to go.

In Amiens, all roads lead to Notre Dame cathedral. This magnificent structure, begun in 1220 and completed within 50 years, is the biggest gothic building in France, and one of the loveliest. The newly cleaned West Porch is a dense tangle of icons, gargoyles and ornate carvings. Inside all is calm and quiet. Stone columns send the eye (and heart) soaring; shafts of light shine through the stained glass windows.

But, as always, it's the little details that capture the imagination. The cathedral's holy relic, for example - part of the skull of St John the Baptist ("From that little relic grew this huge cathedral," says the guide.) And the "smiling Madonna", a 13th-century statue of such modern sensibility - the mother, laughing, balances the baby on her hip - that the centuries surrounding it seem to fall away.

There are few tourist restaurants in Amiens. Looking for a suitably traditional place to eat, I stumbled upon Le T'Chiot Zinc. This was a venerable, century-old establishment with an interior hung with black and white photographs. Madame le Patronne, a glamorous woman of a certain age, greeted diners with an elaborate courtesy, while her corpulent husband plodded to and from the kitchen with steaming plates of food. The duck - a local speciality - was so succu-lent it fell off the fork. The other diners were all locals. Le T'Chiot Zinc is old Amiens at its best.

As, with a twist, is St Leu, the district that was once the heart of Amiens' thriving textile trade. When the manufacturers moved out, St Leu fell into disrepair, but it was soon colonised by property developers - Amiens is well ahead of the game in the matter of urban redevelopment.

St Leu's narrow canals are bordered by pretty brick cottages, meandering narrow alleyways and a strip of bars, restaurant and clubs on the banks of the River Somme that have become the city's social nucleus. Establishments like Caf? Couleur and Le Zeppelin do brisk business with tourists and locals - especially the city's 24,000 students, whose ultra-modernist campus is tucked in among the ancient warehouses. There's a refreshing lack of preciousness about St Leu. Ordinary locals live side-by-side with students and there's not a tacky souvenir shop in sight. There are, however, a number of antiques shops where your chances of stumbling upon some genuine objets trouvaille is far greater than in most French towns.

Les Hortillonages lie opposite; fertile market gardens which were once marshland, where fruit, vegetables and flowers are tended by farmers and brought into the local water market each Saturday. I took an hour-long boat cruise through the labyrinth of waterways. Little river houses lined the banks; moorhens glided past; a heron flapped off slowly from the riverbank. We might have been deep in the heart of the countryside, not a modern French city.

But then Amiens is full of surprises. That night I peered behind a 16th-century facade near the cathedral to discover Steak Easy, a full-blown American diner. Its interior was all neon and zinc, with a small plane hanging from the ceiling. The hamburgers were sensational, the Michelob chilled to perfection. "Zis is not a chain restaurant," said the waitress when I asked. No, like this earthy, unspoiled city itself, it's a one-off. Poor Amiens indeed. The place is bloody marvellous.

WAY TO GO

Paul Mansfield travelled to Amiens with Bridge Travel Service (0870 727 5959). Two nights at the Grand Hotel de l'Univers costs £154 per person based on two sharing a room in October (plus a third night free), including breakfast and return Super-seacat crossing with car from Newhaven to Dieppe. Alternatively, travel via Dover-Calais costs £188 per person (it's an extra 30 miles drive to Amiens).