Feeling fine in fabulous Philly

'Hey duuude. Are you a rawk star? You gotta be a rawk star.' I'm not sure what's flummoxed the long-haired, straight-out-of-Hi-Fidelity assistant at the Philadelphia Record Exchange on South Street more. The English accent, the spiky hair or the bizarre record request.

Call me strange, but I was in the city on business and thought that finding an elusive Bill Cosby record (Hooray For The Salvation Army Band, if you must know) containing a sublime dance floor filler called Funky North Philadelphia while in the comedian's home town would add extra resonance to my trip.

Despite the almost uncontrollable urge to take the piss and play along with the shop assistant's fantasy, I explain what I'm looking for again as I rifle through acres of used vinyl.

'Yeah dude. He's funny,' he replies. But this is my fourth record store and I'm too tired to hit him round the face with a wet kipper shouting: 'I said FUNKY' so I make my excuses and leave empty-handed.

The rest of my trip is more productive as, much to my surprise, I discover that Philadelphia is possibly America's best-kept secret. The city is a hive of art, culture, history, restaurants, nightlife, parkland and stunning architecture which fully reflects William Penn's vision of a 'greene country towne' where all religions and creeds are tolerated.

For the Americans, the former capital is the birthplace of democracy and the American dream. It was here the founding fathers plotted the overthrow of the English and where the Thomas Jefferson-penned Declaration Of Independence was signed.

Moreover, it's also home to that sacred symbol of American freedom, the Liberty Bell.

Thankfully, there's plenty of other things to do after you've tired of hearing how many times the Brits were spanked on the battlefield. If you're looking for art and culture, you can head to the Museum of Art to view works from several renowned artists or take in the smaller independent galleries around the Old City on Market and Vine Streets.

The former often holds exhibitions co-organised with the Tate (Barnett Newman is just about to transfer to London) but most people visit the museum to take snaps of the building's exterior. For here are the steps that Rocky trained on for his first fight with Apollo Creed. And as we recreate the scene, following tiredly in Sly Stallone's footsteps, a group of American students taking in the sun even start singing the theme tune: 'Da da daaah, da da daaah.'

The Mural Arts Programme has made walking around the city a joy. Started to help halt a growing graffiti problem, the programme has seen some 2,000 murals created on the city's buildings, making possibly the biggest exhibition of outdoor art in the world.

Music lovers will be astounded by the quality of the Wolfgang Sawallisch-directed Philadelphia Orchestra at the city's new Kimmel Centre, while those looking for a more intimate, smoky atmosphere can take in jazz and blues at the excellent Zanzibar on Walnut Street.

Restaurants in the city are of the highest class. A chain owned by local restaurateur Stephen Starr and 'TV's Iron Chef' Masaharu Morimoto is one of the best. At Morimoto on Chestnut Street the sushi is to die for and you can see Morimoto, pig-tail flowing, perfecting dishes in the open-plan kitchen. The seats and tables change colour through the night - so don't think you've had some dodgy fish.

The old town, waterfront and South Street are the best areas for drinking and dancing. Continental on Market Street has some great signature cocktails - try the chocolate martini - and the menu shows a wonderful sense of humour: the Dean Martini's vermouth and vodka mix comes with a couple of olives, a Lucky Strike cigarette and a box of matches.

Antiques Row and the parallel South Street are the best areas for curiosity shopping. South is a fantastic mix of Bohemian chic boutiques, tattoo parlours and what the Philadelphians call 'junktiques'. It's also home to the record shops I visited in search of Mr Cosby.

I may have failed to find Bill, but as I arrived back to a grey Gatwick, all I could think of was what local boy WC Fields said when asked to pen his own epitaph: 'On the whole, I'd rather be in Philadelphia.'