Bengaluru or Mysore?

Neither city has a beach. Both sit inland on the Deccan plateau, and swimming means a hotel pool, since Bengaluru's lakes, Mysore's Kaveri and the Krishnaraja Sagar reservoir are not for bathing. Mysore, about 250km from the sea, is a little nearer the Karnataka and Kerala coasts, but from either city the shore is a separate trip.

Bengaluru is the place to eat widely. The darshinis and the old vegetarian restaurants of Basavanagudi and Malleswaram serve the classic dosa, idli and filter coffee. Beyond them come Mangalorean seafood, Kodava pork curry, military-hotel biryani from dawn, every regional Indian cuisine and some of the country's best brewpub beer.

Mysore starts the day with the same breakfast and does a narrower range very well: butter-rich dosas, the Karnataka meal on a banana leaf, and Mysore pak from long-established sweet makers. After that the choice thins quickly, and drinking means hotel bars and a few pubs.

Of the two, only Mysore has a historic centre. The Wodeyar palace lit by tens of thousands of bulbs, the Raja Ravi Varma paintings in the Jaganmohan Palace, St Philomena's and the Chamundeshwari temple on its hill give the city the feel of a royal capital, and Dasara shows it at its grandest.

Bengaluru's sights are fewer and spread across a modern city: Tipu Sultan's wooden summer palace, the Tudor-style Bangalore Palace, the Vidhana Soudha and the Bull Temple. They fill two or three days, but much of the region's best heritage lies outside the city, Mysore among it.

This is where the two differ most. Bengaluru is India's pub city, with rooftop brewpubs and cocktail bars along Indiranagar's 100 Feet Road, in Koramangala and around Church Street, and a young crowd that starts on Friday straight after work. Closing times are early and there are few clubs, so it suits a long night over craft beer rather than dancing.

In Mysore there is hardly a night out to be had: the palace lights, dinner, then a hotel bar or one of a few pubs that close well before midnight. Visitors who want a big evening usually save it for Bengaluru.

Mysore has the better wild country close by. Bandipur, Nagarhole and Kabini, about two hours away, run jeep safaris to see tigers, leopards and wild elephants. Nearer still, the Ranganathittu sanctuary has painted storks and basking crocodiles, best seen from a rowing boat.

Bengaluru's outdoors are gardens and granite: Cubbon Park and Lalbagh in town, sunrise at Nandi Hills, climbing at Ramanagara and the safari at Bannerghatta. These are pleasant outings, but Kodagu and the tiger reserves are a long drive away, and the traffic out of the city eats into the day.

Mysore is better placed for days out because its sights are closer. Srirangapatna is half an hour away and the Hoysala temple at Somnathpur about an hour. With a hired car and driver you can add Shravanabelagola's giant Gomateshwara statue, the sand-buried temples of Talakad and the hilltop town of Melukote.

From Bengaluru, the best day out is in effect a trip to Mysore, two hours away by express train, with Srirangapatna on the way. The painted ceilings of Lepakshi lie to the north. Hampi, Belur and Halebidu need an overnight stay, and leaving Bengaluru by road is slow.

Both cities welcome children and have about as much to offer them, in different forms. Bengaluru's attractions are bigger: Bannerghatta's zoo and lion and tiger safari, a large water park, and the science museum and planetarium by Cubbon Park. The catch is the long car rides between them.

Mysore's attractions are smaller and closer together: the maharajas' shaded zoo, the royal carriages at the rail museum, boating on Karanji Lake and the musical fountains at Brindavan Gardens, all at a calmer pace. In both cities broken pavements make pushchairs hard work, and in Mysore the Dasara crowds are a lot for small children.

Neither city is easy to get around, but Mysore is the more manageable. You can walk the centre around the palace, Sayyaji Rao Road and the market, and the zoo, Chamundi Hill and Brindavan Gardens are short auto-rickshaw rides apart.

Bengaluru sprawls without a walkable core, and its traffic can turn a few kilometres into an hour. The Namma Metro helps along its lines, but most journeys finish by auto-rickshaw or app-booked taxi. A fast rail line and an expressway between the two cities make it easy to combine them.

Bengaluru gives a shopper far more range. There are the crowded silk lanes of Chickpet, Channapatna's lacquered toys, Commercial Street for everyday clothes and bangles, malls with international brands and Indian designer boutiques in Indiranagar, though there is no real luxury district.

Mysore's shopping stays close to where its crafts are made. You will find the government silk weaving factory, sandalwood soap and oil, incense rolled in local workshops, rosewood inlay and gold-leaf Mysore paintings, with kumkum powder and garlands at Devaraja Market. Beyond crafts there is little to buy, and because fakes are common, silk and sandalwood are best bought from the government emporia in either city.

Both are cheap by international standards, but your money goes further in Mysore. Simple guesthouses are plentiful, meals and auto-rickshaw rides cost very little, and spending only climbs at the heritage palace hotels, safari lodges or when you hire a driver.

Bengaluru is one of India's more expensive cities. Its hotels are priced for business travel, and heavy taxes on alcohol make brewpub evenings the biggest expense. Eating at darshinis and getting about by auto-rickshaw still keeps a stay inexpensive.

Bengaluru has more to see on an ordinary evening. Ranga Shankara stages plays in Kannada, English and Hindi most nights, Carnatic concerts fill the sabhas and Chowdiah Memorial Hall around Ramanavami, and bars host rock and indie gigs most weekends.

Mysore has the older court tradition and its own style of veena playing, but outside Dasara performances are occasional, and its repertory theatre plays mostly in Kannada. In Mysore it pays to plan around the festival, while in Bengaluru a look at the listings is usually enough.

Mysore is a yoga destination in a way Bengaluru is not. As the birthplace of Ashtanga, it draws students from abroad for weeks of dawn practice in leafy Gokulam, with chanting classes, coconut-water stalls and Ayurvedic clinics close by.

Bengaluru offers Ayurveda, drop-in yoga and residential retreats on its outskirts, but the city itself is tiring, and the quiet moments come from early mornings in Lalbagh or the old streets of Malleswaram. Neither city has a bathing tradition.