Charleston or Gulf Shores?

Gulf Shores has the better shoreline for a beach trip. Its fine white quartz sand runs almost unbroken from Fort Morgan to the Florida line, and on calm days the Gulf is clear, green and slightly warmer. You can walk out of a condo straight onto the sand. Rip currents are the thing to watch.

Charleston's beaches are good but secondary. Folly, Sullivan's Island and Isle of Palms each have their own character, from surfy to residential to resort-style. The Atlantic there is greener and churned by tides, and getting to it means a drive from the old town.

Charleston is a serious food city. Its Lowcountry cooking draws on Gullah Geechee and West African roots, with she-crab soup, Carolina Gold rice and roasted oysters served everywhere from townhouse dining rooms to whole-hog barbecue pits. The catch is that the best tables need booking well ahead.

Gulf Shores feeds you well but simply. Royal Red shrimp, chargrilled oysters and Louisiana-leaning gumbo come from open-air shacks and big waterfront restaurants. Fine dining is scarce, and many visitors buy shrimp at the seafood markets and cook it in the condo.

There's almost no contest here. Charleston's whole peninsula is the sight: Rainbow Row, the Battery and the single houses south of Broad. The Nathaniel Russell and Aiken-Rhett houses, Fort Sumter and the museums facing the city's slave-trade past add enough for two or three full days.

Gulf Shores has Fort Morgan, a brick star fort from the Battle of Mobile Bay, which is worth a morning. Beyond that there's a small local museum, and anyone wanting history drives to Mobile or Pensacola for it.

Neither is a clubbing destination, but Charleston gives you more choice of evening. Upper King Street has rooftop bars, cocktail rooms and oyster bars that fill with students and weekend groups, and the French Quarter's wine bars and old taverns suit a quieter night.

In Gulf Shores, going out means sand-floored beach-bar decks and frozen drinks. The famous state-line roadhouse at Perdido Key stays loud late, but the rest of the resort is mostly families who are in bed early.

Both sit on flat, watery coast, and neither has a hill. The difference is in how you get into it. Around Charleston it's kayaking spartina marsh creeks among dolphins and walking live-oak forest in Francis Marion and the ACE Basin. Gulf Shores leans to cycling Gulf State Park's paved trails, birding during the migrations at Bon Secour, deep-sea fishing from Orange Beach and boat trips into the Mobile-Tensaw Delta swamp.

Charleston's outings carry more weight. The Ashley River plantations, among them Middleton Place, Magnolia and Drayton Hall, plus McLeod on James Island, deal directly with the history of slavery. Savannah's squares are about two hours away and Beaufort's Gullah sea islands closer.

From Gulf Shores the trips are pleasant rather than memorable. Mobile's ironwork balconies and the USS Alabama, Fairhope's bayside pier and Pensacola's naval aviation museum are the main ones, and the Dauphin Island ferry makes a good half day. Both cities need a car for all of these.

Charleston gives children plenty to see, but it wasn't built around them. The South Carolina Aquarium and the Children's Museum of the Lowcountry are on the downtown waterfront. Climbing through the aircraft carrier at Patriots Point, the boat out to Fort Sumter and the replica ship at Charles Towne Landing go down best with school-age children. Toddlers will get more from the wide beaches with their gentle surf, and there's no theme park or big zoo to fall back on.

Gulf Shores is the easier family base overall, because the whole resort is set up for families. Gulf State Park has a nature centre, bike trails and a long fishing pier, and the Orange Beach waterfront has a Ferris wheel for an evening out. What it lacks is a major aquarium or anything like Charleston's museum-style sights. Keep a close eye on children in the surf because of rip currents.

Charleston at least gives you a walkable core. The flat historic peninsula is around 3km across, with pedicabs and a free shuttle filling in, though the beaches and plantations still need a car or ride-hailing.

In Gulf Shores you'll drive for almost everything. The resort stretches for miles along one beach road, and the restaurants and attractions sit along inland highways. Bikes only really work inside Gulf State Park, and summer weekend traffic over the bridges is slow.

Charleston offers proper browsing. King Street runs from antiques and galleries through fashion brands to independent design boutiques, and at City Market Gullah artisans weave sweetgrass baskets, the city's signature craft.

Gulf Shores shopping is mostly practical: beachwear and souvenir emporiums, surf and fishing shops, and a large outlet mall in Foley that tends to fill a rainy day.

Gulf Shores is the gentler on the wallet, especially away from midsummer. Winter and shoulder-season condo rents fall sharply, and a kitchen cuts what you spend on food. June and July weekends are another story.

Charleston stays expensive for most of the year. Peninsula inns charge big-city rates, spring and autumn weekends push them higher, and paid house and plantation tours add up. Walking the old streets and the Battery costs nothing, though.

Charleston has a real performing arts calendar, at its peak during Spoleto Festival USA each late spring with opera, chamber music and dance. The rest of the year there's the Dock Street Theatre, the symphony at the Gaillard Center and Gullah storytelling and song.

Gulf Shores is a place for live music in bars. Bands play beach-bar stages daily, the Orange Beach amphitheatre brings country and rock acts in the warmer months, and the state-line roadhouse holds a November songwriters' festival. For theatre or a symphony you'd drive an hour to Mobile.

Neither has a bathing culture, but Charleston is the more restful place to unwind. It has good hotel spas, resort spas on Kiawah, and an old town of shaded gardens, church courtyards and evenings at White Point Garden.

In Gulf Shores relaxation means a few day spas and, mostly, a slow week of sunsets from a condo balcony once the summer crowds have gone.