Baltimore or Newport, Rhode Island?

Newport has real beaches on its doorstep. Easton's Beach lies below the Cliff Walk, Second and Third Beaches stretch out in Middletown, and Gooseberry is a sheltered cove on Ocean Drive. The Atlantic stays cool, though, and the swimming season is short, from late June to early September.

Baltimore offers nothing comparable. Its harbour is for boats, not bathing. Sandy Point by the Bay Bridge works for a family afternoon, but the water is brackish and sea nettles drift in during summer. The ocean beaches are a separate trip three hours away.

Baltimore eats with more character and more range. Summer crab feasts on brown paper with Old Bay, lump crab cakes all year, and the stalls of Lexington Market and the Cross Street and Broadway halls make up the core. Little Italy, the Fells Point pubs and the chef-led kitchens of Hampden and Harbor East add to it.

Newport's table is classic New England seafood: lobster rolls, clear-broth chowder, clam cakes and local oysters on the wharves. It is satisfying for a couple of days but narrow beyond that, and in winter several kitchens shorten their hours or close.

The two are evenly matched for sightseeing, but in very different ways. Baltimore's strength is its museums, from the Cone Collection of Matisse at the Baltimore Museum of Art to the Walters' antiquities and Fabergé, alongside Fort McHenry, the B&O roundhouse and long streets of marble-stooped rowhouses.

Newport is about buildings rather than collections. The Vanderbilt-era palaces on Bellevue Avenue, such as The Breakers and Marble House, sit above the sea, while the colonial houses of the Point and Historic Hill surround Touro Synagogue and the Redwood Library. Its museums beyond these are small.

Neither is a club town, but Baltimore gives you more evenings out. Fells Point's old taverns around the cobbled square, the rooftops and sports bars of Federal Hill and the dive bars of Station North cover different moods, and last call comes at 2am.

Newport's going out is concentrated on Thames Street and the wharves. It is loud on summer Saturdays with sailors and wedding parties, but it finishes early and thins to a few local pubs out of season.

Newport has a slight edge, mainly because its coast is right there. The Cliff Walk, the wave-cut ledges at Brenton Point and the seabirds at Sachuest Point are all on the island, and few towns in North America do sailing better.

Baltimore's outdoors is wooded and riverine instead: the gorges of Patapsco Valley, the trout streams of Gunpowder Falls and paddling on the harbour, with the Appalachian Trail an hour and a half west. Its humid summers push hiking into spring and autumn.

Baltimore is the far better base for excursions, largely because of the railway. Washington's Smithsonian museums are about an hour away by train and Philadelphia's Independence Hall only a little further. Annapolis, Gettysburg, Harpers Ferry and the Eastern Shore villages are all within easy driving.

Newport has worthwhile outings too: Providence, Bristol's colonial waterfront, the Block Island ferry, New Bedford's whaling museum and Mystic Seaport. Nearly all of them need a car, though, and Boston is a longer haul.

Baltimore is built better for a family day. The National Aquarium's rainforest and shark ring, the Maryland Science Center and Port Discovery sit within a short walk of each other on the Inner Harbor. The Maryland Zoo and the old locomotives at the B&O museum add more days out.

Newport's pleasures for children are simpler: calm water at Third and Gooseberry Beaches, the carousel at Easton's Beach, Fort Adams and the touch tanks at the small Save The Bay aquarium. Its headline mansion tours tend to bore younger visitors.

Newport is easier once you are in town. The harbour, Thames Street and the colonial streets sit close together, and a summer trolley and local buses climb to the mansions and beaches. The catch is arriving: traffic on the island bridges and the hunt for parking can eat into a summer day.

Baltimore's walkable core is limited to the waterfront between the Inner Harbor and Fells Point, linked by water taxis. Beyond that, a single metro line and a light rail line leave Hampden, the art museum and the zoo to buses, taxis or a car.

Newport browses a little better, with galleries, sailing and preppy clothing on Bowen's and Bannister's Wharves and antiques along Spring and Franklin Streets. Many shops cut back in winter.

Baltimore's best strip is the Avenue in Hampden, with vintage and kitsch, plus records and antiques in Fells Point. Neither town has a department store or real fashion depth.

Baltimore is markedly the cheaper stay. Hotels cost less than in nearby Washington, and the Baltimore Museum of Art and the Walters are free, though meals with tip and the taxis you will end up using still mount up.

Newport is expensive in summer and early autumn, when rooms, seafood dinners, mansion tickets and parking all hit the wallet. Staying in Middletown, coming midweek or visiting in late autumn and winter softens the cost.

Baltimore offers far more on an ordinary week. The Baltimore Symphony plays its season at the Meyerhoff, the Peabody Institute puts on frequent concerts, many of them free, touring Broadway shows fill the Hippodrome, and the small clubs of Station North host indie and experimental bands.

Newport's fame rests on a few summer weeks: the Jazz and Folk Festivals at Fort Adams and chamber music in the mansion ballrooms. Outside those, the town offers little beyond bar bands and community theatre.

Newport is the more restful of the two, though neither has a bathing tradition. In May and June, and again in September and October, a quiet Cliff Walk and a harbour that has slowed down give the town a real calm, with hotel spas adding to it.

Baltimore's pace is urban and gritty. Unwinding there means a hotel spa, an hour in Druid Hill Park or a drive out to the Eastern Shore.