Catania or Padua?

Catania is a real seaside city and Padua is not. Catania offers two very different kinds of swimming: the broad sand and beach clubs of La Playa to the south, and to the north the black basalt of the Riviera dei Ciclopi, where you climb down ladders into clear water beside the sea stacks. Isola Bella at Taormina adds a prettier cove within an hour.

From Padua the sea takes an hour each way, to Sottomarina or the Lido of Venice. The Adriatic there is shallow and calm, which suits small children, but it means long rows of umbrellas on flat sand, an outing rather than part of daily life.

Catania eats better, and above all more boldly. Its street food alone could fill a trip: cone-shaped arancini, fried crispelle, horse meat grilled on Via Plebiscito, pistachio granita with brioche at breakfast. The dripping theatre of La Pescheria and Etna's volcanic wines complete it.

Padua's cooking is quieter Venetian home food, such as bigoli with duck, baccalà and risotto with peas, bought fresh from the morning markets beneath the Palazzo della Ragione. Its strongest suit is the ritual of the standing spritz in the squares, where Catania's is the counter snack eaten on the move.

Padua holds the greater art. Giotto's Scrovegni Chapel is one of the turning points of European painting, and it sits among a UNESCO-listed group of fourteenth-century fresco cycles, Donatello's work at the Basilica of Saint Anthony, the world's oldest permanent anatomical theatre and the oldest botanical garden still in its original place.

Catania's appeal lies more in the streetscape than in its interiors. The city is a single piece of late baroque in black lava and pale limestone, from the elephant fountain to Via dei Crociferi and the vast San Nicolò monastery, with Roman ruins surfacing between buildings. Its museums are modest, though, and the art inside does not compare with Padua's.

Catania stays out later and makes more noise. Crowds drink in the lanes around Piazza Bellini well past midnight, and in summer the La Playa beach clubs turn into open-air dance floors.

Padua's evening centres on the aperitivo, with spritz glasses in Piazza delle Erbe and small wine bars in the old ghetto. It is sociable but winds down earlier. The seasons also run in opposite directions: Catania peaks in summer, while Padua empties when the students leave.

Here the two are very different. Catania lives under an active volcano of about 3,300m, close enough for a morning on its craters, with cable cars, lava trails, birch woods and winter skiing. The Alcantara Gorge and the snorkelling around the sea stacks are extras.

Padua sits on a flat plain. Its outdoors means the Euganean Hills about 15km away, with vineyards, chestnut woods and quiet roads for cyclists, along with level rides on the Brenta towpaths. Serious mountain walking means driving to the pre-Alps.

Both cities make excellent bases, but Padua's position is hard to beat. Venice is under half an hour by train, Vicenza is closer still, and Verona, Bologna and Ferrara are all easy trips without a car. The Brenta villas and the walled towns of Este and Montagnana fill the gaps.

Catania's list is also impressive: Ortigia and the Greek theatre at Siracusa, Taormina above the sea, the baroque towns of Noto, Modica and Ragusa, and the mosaics at Piazza Armerina. The difference is effort, since the baroque circuit and the inland sites are far easier with a hire car.

Catania has more for children to do, as long as you get out of town. There is the gently shelving sand at La Playa, crater walks on Etna that older children love, and the Etnaland water park for hot days. The city itself is tiring, with heavy traffic, uneven pavements and little shade.

Padua is the reverse. Its flat, safe, largely pedestrian centre and the open space of Prato della Valle are easy with a pushchair, but the sights are mostly frescoes and churches. For real entertainment families travel about an hour and a quarter to Gardaland and Lake Garda.

Padua is much easier. Its flat core is closed to most traffic, everything from the Scrovegni Chapel to the Basilica is within a 20-minute walk under arcades, a tram runs from the station, and fast trains reach the whole region.

Catania's baroque centre is walkable too, but beyond it the single metro line, slow buses and drivers who ignore pedestrians make it hard going. Most visitors end up hiring a car for Etna and the baroque towns, and then struggle to park it.

Neither city is worth a trip for its shops, but they shop in different ways. In Catania it means the long run of chain stores up Via Etnea towards the volcano and the noisy daily La Fiera market around Piazza Carlo Alberto. Padua's arcades between the station and the old squares have more independent boutiques and university bookshops, and a large antiques market fills Prato della Valle one Sunday a month.

Most of the best things to take home are edible. From Catania that means Bronte pistachio cream, almond pastries and Etna wine, and the local crafts are painted Caltagirone ceramics and pieces carved from lava stone. From Padua it means cheese and Euganean wine from the delicatessens under the Palazzo della Ragione.

Catania is a little kinder to the budget, mainly because its street food makes a full meal for very little and rooms in the old centre are reasonable outside high summer. The extras add up, though: summit trips on Etna, beach-club sunbeds and a hire car.

Padua costs what you would expect in northern Italy, but it saves money in other ways. A stay there is a cheaper way to see Venice, and since the centre is walkable and trains do the rest, there is no car to pay for. The Scrovegni Chapel and the museums charge normal entry fees.

Catania has more to offer on its own stage. The Teatro Massimo Bellini runs a full opera and symphonic season in the composer's home town, and the opera dei pupi, Sicily's marionette theatre of knights and Saracens, gives you something you won't find in the north.

Padua's own programme is smaller: prose and some opera at Teatro Verdi, and chamber concerts in the Sala dei Giganti and the Basilica. What it does have is the Fenice in Venice and the summer Arena in Verona, both close enough for an evening.

Padua is far better for rest. About 12km out, Abano Terme and Montegrotto Terme form one of Europe's largest thermal districts, with hot mineral pools and mud cures used since Roman times. They are easy to reach for an afternoon soak after the frescoes.

Catania has no thermal tradition, and its centre is loud with traffic, so spa time means a hotel on the coast or on Etna's slopes. What calm it has comes from its slow lunches and evening passeggiata.