Baltimore or Daytona Beach?

This is Daytona's strongest advantage. Baltimore's waterfront is a working port where nobody swims. The closest sand is Sandy Point on the brackish Chesapeake, about forty minutes away, where sea nettles drift in during high summer.

Daytona has around 37km of broad, compact beach, firm enough to drive on in places, and the Atlantic reaches about 28°C in summer. The water is greenish and rip currents are serious, so stay near the lifeguards. Ormond Beach, Ponce Inlet and New Smyrna offer calmer sand away from the pier.

Both cities lean on seafood, but Baltimore's has far more personality. Steamed blue crabs dusted with Old Bay and cracked with mallets on paper-covered tables, lump crab cakes, and the stalls of Lexington Market give it a clear local identity. Little Italy and the chef-led kitchens of Hampden and Harbor East add some range.

In Daytona, the meals worth seeking out are fried shrimp, grouper sandwiches and smoked fish dip, eaten on fish-camp decks over the Halifax River. Beyond those, chain restaurants dominate the main roads.

Baltimore gives a sightseer two or three full days. The Cone Collection's Matisse works and the Walters' range from Egyptian antiquities to Fabergé are both free. Add Fort McHenry, the B&O roundhouse, the USS Constellation, and the cobbled streets and marble-stooped rowhouses that carry the city's history.

Daytona's sights are about speed and the coast. You can tour Daytona International Speedway, see the Cuban art at the Museum of Arts and Sciences, and climb Florida's tallest lighthouse at Ponce Inlet. After that, the motels and strip roads leave little to explore.

Neither city is a club town, but Baltimore has more evenings in it. Fells Point's taverns in centuries-old buildings, the rooftops of Federal Hill after an Orioles game and the dive bars of Station North give you a different neighbourhood each night. Take a taxi through the quieter streets in between.

Daytona's nights follow the calendar. The biker saloons on Main Street spill into the road during Bike Week, Biketoberfest and race weeks. The rest of the year it comes down to tiki-bar sunsets and hotel lounges.

The two are broadly level, but the landscapes could hardly differ more. Around Baltimore it is wooded and gently rolling: the river gorges of Patapsco Valley, the trout streams of Gunpowder Falls, sailing on the Chesapeake out of Annapolis, and the Blue Ridge about an hour and a half west. Spring and autumn are the times for it.

Daytona's country is flat and wet. You can kayak the Mosquito Lagoon alongside dolphins, go birding on Merritt Island and see winter manatees at Blue Spring. In summer, plan outings for the early morning.

Baltimore's position on the Northeast rail corridor is hard to beat. Washington's monuments and Smithsonian museums are about an hour away by train, and Philadelphia's Independence Hall is little more than that, so neither needs a car. Annapolis, Gettysburg and Harpers Ferry are short drives.

Daytona also has strong outings: Spanish-colonial St Augustine to the north, Kennedy Space Center to the south and Orlando's theme parks inland. Every one of them means driving.

Both work well with children. The choice comes down to whether they want exhibits or sand. Baltimore packs the National Aquarium's shark ring and rainforest, the Science Center and Port Discovery into a walkable stretch of the Inner Harbor, with Fort McHenry's cannon for older children.

In Daytona, family days centre on the beach and the boardwalk's arcades and rides, with the Orlando parks an hour away. Rip currents and noisy event weeks are the things to plan around.

Baltimore is clearly easier without a car, as long as you stay near the water. The Inner Harbor, Fells Point, Federal Hill and Little Italy are linked by a waterfront promenade and water taxis, and trains run fast to Washington and Philadelphia.

Daytona is spread along long roads on both sides of the river, and its buses are too infrequent to rely on. Apart from walking or cycling on the beach, you will need a car for almost everything.

Neither city is worth the trip for shopping, and what each offers is different. Baltimore is better for an afternoon of browsing: vintage clothes and kitsch on Hampden's Avenue, and antiques and records in Fells Point.

Daytona covers practical needs. An outlet centre and a mall sell brand-name clothing, beach shops sell swimwear, and Main Street sells biker gear.

Daytona comes out slightly cheaper. Older oceanfront motels, condos with kitchens and casual seafood keep costs down, although car hire is almost unavoidable and room rates jump during Bike Week and the Daytona 500.

Baltimore undercuts Washington and New York on hotels, and its two big art museums are free. Restaurant bills with tip and the taxis you end up taking still push up the daily spend.

Baltimore has a real season of its own. The symphony plays at the Meyerhoff, the Peabody Institute puts on frequent concerts, many of them free, and touring Broadway shows come to the Hippodrome. Small Station North venues keep an indie and experimental scene going.

Daytona has no orchestra of its own. Its highlight is a winter series that brings visiting orchestras to the Peabody Auditorium, which shares the name with Baltimore's conservatory but nothing else. Summer means free concerts at the oceanfront bandshell, and for more choice you drive to Orlando.

Neither city has a spa or bathing culture worth travelling for, so the difference lies in how easily calm finds you. In Baltimore you have to go looking for it. Beyond the spas of the bigger harbour hotels and a few yoga studios in Harbor East and Hampden, the restful hours are a quiet gallery at the Walters or the shade of Druid Hill, and visitors who really want to switch off leave for the Eastern Shore.

Daytona has the edge because the setting does the work a spa would. The resort hotels have spas of their own, but the main thing is that the ocean is a few steps away and the days need no plan. The exception is the Speedway and motorcycle events, which turn the town loud for a week at a time.