Atlanta or St. Augustine?

This is where the two differ most. Atlanta sits four to five hours from either coast, so a swim means a hotel pool or a summer lake day at Lanier or Allatoona with the local families.

St. Augustine has a real Atlantic shore within ten to fifteen minutes of the fort. There are the dunes of Anastasia State Park, the long flat sands of St. Augustine Beach and Crescent Beach, and the more local Vilano across the inlet. The water is gently shelving and warm from late spring to autumn, and in winter the beach is still good for long walks.

Atlanta is the far stronger place to eat. It cooks Southern food on home ground, from meat-and-three cafeterias and smoked barbecue to Sunday brunch. Buford Highway adds Korean, Vietnamese, Mexican and Ethiopian kitchens that cook for their own communities, though you need a car to reach them.

St. Augustine's table is narrower: shrimp, fried fish and oysters at casual waterfront places. Its one distinctive note is the Minorcan datil pepper, which goes into hot sauce and a spicy clam chowder. Beyond a few chef-led places around the old town and San Marco, the choice runs out quickly.

Atlanta was largely burned in 1864 and rebuilt in glass and concrete, so there is little old townscape to stroll. Its sights carry weight instead: Martin Luther King Jr.'s birth home and Ebenezer Baptist Church on Auburn Avenue, the civil rights centre downtown, and the High Museum in Midtown, which gives it a serious art collection that St. Augustine lacks.

St. Augustine comes out ahead because the town itself is the sight. The Spanish founded it in 1565, and today the coquina Castillo de San Marcos guards the bayfront. Behind the fort is an old quarter of balconied houses, walled gardens and the city gate, partly original and partly careful reconstruction. Flagler's Gilded Age hotels add a second layer. One is now a college and the other holds the Lightner Museum.

Atlanta is the place for a big night. Its clubs play the hip-hop and trap the city is known for. Edgewood Avenue packs dive bars into a few blocks, Midtown anchors one of the South's largest LGBTQ scenes and Buckhead has the dressier lounges. Each area stands on its own, though, so plan on rides between them.

St. Augustine's evenings are a drink on a courtyard patio around St. George Street and the bayfront, perhaps with a cover band. It is cheerful at weekends, but there are almost no clubs and the town goes quiet well before the small hours.

Atlanta offers more varied ground. A tall hardwood canopy covers the city, Stone Mountain's granite dome and the Kennesaw battlefield trails are close by, and the Chattahoochee is good for paddling. About two hours north are waterfalls, gorges and the start of the Appalachian Trail.

St. Augustine is entirely flat and watery: salt marsh, dunes and the Matanzas River. Its best outings are on the water and at the water's edge, kayaking creeks where dolphins and ospreys are common, birding in the Guana reserve and paddleboarding on the state park lagoon.

Both lists are modest, and both need a car. The difference is in what you drive to. Atlanta's outings are small Georgia towns and the mountains: college-town Athens, Dahlonega's gold-rush square and vineyards, the antebellum houses of Madison and Chattanooga's riverfront.

St. Augustine has fewer charming towns nearby but some bigger names, as long full days. Kennedy Space Center and the Orlando theme parks are each about two hours away, while Jacksonville, Victorian Fernandina Beach and the Daytona speedway are closer.

Atlanta has more for children to do. The Georgia Aquarium's whale sharks and belugas, Zoo Atlanta's gorillas, Fernbank's dinosaurs, the puppetry centre and the Six Flags roller coasters could fill a week. The cost is long drives and traffic between them.

St. Augustine offers less, but it is easier. The long-running Alligator Farm, cannon firing at the Castillo and a lighthouse to climb all sit close to a safe, compact centre, and the gentle summer surf gives children a beach day that Atlanta cannot match.

St. Augustine is the easier place to get around, though both were built for the car. Its historic district is small and flat, and the fort, St. George Street and Flagler College are minutes apart on foot. Most visitors park once, walk, and drive only to the beaches.

In Atlanta, MARTA's rail line connects the airport, downtown, Midtown and Buckhead. Away from that corridor and the BeltLine trail, the metro area is hilly, has few pavements and suffers heavy rush-hour traffic, so you will be driving or calling rides for most of the trip.

Atlanta offers far more. Its two big malls on Peachtree Road and the boutiques of Buckhead Village cover department stores and luxury labels, while Little Five Points is good for vintage clothes and records.

St. Augustine's main street sells fudge, T-shirts and pirate trinkets, with better browsing in the galleries and antique shops of Aviles Street. Its local datil-pepper sauces make a better souvenir than anything Atlanta has to take home.

Overall costs are similar, but they come from different places. In Atlanta, hotels are reasonable by big-city American standards, while car hire, parking and steep tickets for the big family attractions add up. The King sites are free.

In St. Augustine, the main cost is the room. Historic inns and hotels within walking distance of the old town get expensive at weekends and in peak season. To keep costs down, stay at a highway motel, visit midweek and enjoy the free beaches and old streets.

Atlanta is well ahead. It has a symphony orchestra known for its choral work, new plays at the Alliance Theatre, full opera and ballet seasons, and touring Broadway shows in the 1920s Fox Theatre. Major hip-hop and R&B tours play its arenas, with the Tabernacle and smaller rooms in between.

St. Augustine's main stage is the open-air amphitheatre in the woods on Anastasia Island, which books touring rock, country and folk acts. Beyond that, there are acoustic sets on bar patios and a community theatre.

Neither city is built for a restful break, but they offer different kinds of rest. Atlanta has the more interesting option in the large Korean bathhouses in its northeastern suburbs, with hot and cold pools and sauna rooms, some open round the clock.

St. Augustine has no bathing tradition and only modest spas. Its calm comes from the slower pace: quiet B&B verandas, courtyard gardens and an evening walk along the bayfront seawall, especially midweek.