Alexandria or Aswan?

Only one of these is a seaside city. Alexandria has a summer sea warm enough for real swimming, though the free city beaches are narrow and packed, and the nicer sand at Montaza and Mamoura sits inside paid clubs where covering up matters less.

Aswan is a desert river town with no coast within easy reach. Swimming there means a boatman dropping you at a sandbank below the west-bank dunes for a cool, careful dip in the Nile, or more often a hotel pool on the islands.

Alexandria eats far better, mainly because of the fish. At the harbour restaurants around Anfushi you pick your catch and have it grilled or baked in clay. Around them are the city's own street snacks and the patisseries and tea rooms left by the Greek and Italian communities.

In Aswan the memorable meal is Nubian: a clay-pot stew and Nile fish on a terrace above the river or at a village table. Away from that you are left with grill houses and ful stalls, and menus soon repeat. Alcohol is hard to find in both, but Alexandria at least keeps a few old bars.

The two are evenly matched, but the history comes in different forms. Alexandria's Graeco-Roman past survives in pieces: the catacombs of Kom el Shoqafa, the Roman theatre at Kom el-Dikka and the museums that hold the rest. Around them lies a cosmopolitan city of old cafés, Cavafy's house and the Bibliotheca Alexandrina.

Aswan's sights are pharaonic and Nubian, and set in the landscape. Philae's Temple of Isis stands on its island, Elephantine has its Nilometer and the Tombs of the Nobles are cut into the west-bank cliff. Most of them involve a boat, which turns sightseeing into a series of short river crossings.

Neither is a place for a night out, but Alexandria has more life after dark. In summer the Corniche stays full past midnight, with shisha terraces and juice stalls facing the sea, and a few Greek-era bars downtown still pour drinks. Aswan's evenings are a stroll through the lit souk, a riverside café or a drink in a hotel bar at dusk, and then bed.

Aswan has by far the better scenery. Black granite boulders break the river at the First Cataract, dunes run down to the west bank, and you can sail between the islands, watch birds in the reeds or wander the botanical garden on Kitchener's Island. The heat confines it all to winter or early mornings.

Alexandria's natural side is mostly the sea. There are sunsets over the Eastern Harbour, and divers can explore the sunken ruins of the Pharos. Inland there is only flat farmland, the reed beds of Lake Mariout and then desert.

The day trips are about as good in each, but they head in different directions. From Alexandria you can fan out to the Ottoman houses of Rosetta, the war cemeteries at El Alamein, the old monasteries of Wadi Natrun or the ruins of Abu Mena. Each is a different kind of history, and Cairo is a long day by express train.

Aswan has a single corridor north along the Nile. The double temple at Kom Ombo and the near-complete temple at Edfu make one full day, with Daraw's camel market or Gebel el-Silsila on the way. Abu Simbel is the trip everyone wants, but it means a pre-dawn desert drive or a flight.

Children in Alexandria share the summer seafront with crowds of Egyptian families, and there is ice cream, a horse-carriage ride and room to run in Montaza's gardens. The beaches are packed, though, and crossing the multi-lane Corniche with small ones is nerve-racking. It suits older children who will enjoy creeping through the catacombs and climbing Qaitbay's fort.

Aswan is calmer and less crowded, and its appeal for children is adventure: a motorboat to Philae, a camel up the dunes and the baby crocodiles kept by families in a Nubian village. Go in winter and choose a hotel with a pool, because the summer heat rules it out for young children, and be ready for persistent boatmen and sellers.

Alexandria is a long thin strip of some 20km along the shore. Getting from Qaitbay in the west to Montaza in the east means a taxi or ride-hailing car crawling through traffic, or the old yellow tram if you are in no hurry. Downtown around Raml Station is walkable, though the Corniche is risky to cross.

Aswan's centre is compact, just the Corniche and the souk street behind it, and easy on foot in the cooler hours. Here the distances are across water instead. Public ferries reach Elephantine and the west bank, while the islands, the tombs and Philae need a hired felucca, motorboat or taxi, with the fare agreed before you set off.

Neither is a shopping destination, and what each sells differs. Alexandria's interest lies in the Attarin quarter's dusty antique dealers and in souks that serve residents, with little made for visitors. Aswan has the better souvenirs: Nubian baskets, beaded jewellery and pottery from the west-bank villages, along with hibiscus, dates and spices on the souk street, all bought by bargaining.

Both are very cheap, so the difference lies in where the money goes. In Alexandria taxis, fish dinners and seafront hotels cost little, and the main spending is on site fees and the higher room rates of the busy summer weeks. In Aswan daily life is just as cheap, but chartered boats, drivers for Philae and the long trip to Abu Simbel add up quickly.

Alexandria has a real if irregular stage. Opera, ballet and Arabic music play at the Sayed Darwish Theatre, and the Bibliotheca Alexandrina's arts centre puts on concerts and films. Whether you catch something depends on your dates.

Aswan has no theatre or concert season. Its live culture is Nubian drumming and singing, heard at village evenings or from troupes performing in hotels, plus the sound-and-light show at Philae.

Aswan has the stronger claim to restfulness, having served as a winter retreat for Europeans since the nineteenth century. Its dry air, felucca afternoons, west-bank guesthouses and the village cure of being buried in hot sand all slow the pace, even if touts on the Corniche can interrupt it.

Alexandria offers hotel spas, and its calm comes from long café mornings and harbour walks outside summer. The traffic and crowds of the busy months make it a harder place to unwind.