Chiang Mai or Yogyakarta?

Neither city is a beach destination, but Yogyakarta at least has a coast within reach. Parangtritis, about an hour south, has black volcanic sand, dunes and sunsets, though the surf is too rough for swimming. The white coves of Gunungkidul have sheltered pools for paddling.

Chiang Mai is a long day's travel from any sea. Swimming means a hotel pool, the Huay Tung Tao reservoir or the quarry lakes on the edge of town, and a proper beach means a flight south.

Chiang Mai is the better place to eat. Northern Thai cooking has more range and more punch, from khao soi and herb-heavy sai ua sausage to chilli dips eaten with sticky rice. Coffee from the surrounding hills supports a café culture that runs from Nimmanhaemin out to garden cafés near the mountains.

Yogyakarta's food is sweeter and narrower. It centres on gudeg and on the late-night angkringan carts, which serve their kopi joss with a lump of glowing charcoal in the glass. It is memorable eating, but the choice runs out sooner, and alcohol is barely part of the local table.

Both cities have two or three days of sights in town, but of different kinds. Chiang Mai's are religious and spread across its lanes: dozens of Lanna temples inside the moat, with Wat Chedi Luang and Wat Phra Singh at the centre and Doi Suthep looking down from above.

Yogyakarta's are courtly. The sultan's Kraton is still in use, the Taman Sari water palace is nearby, and the Sonobudoyo Museum's puppets, krises and textiles make it the better city for museums. Its biggest monuments, though, are outside town.

Chiang Mai has more of a night out. Nimmanhaemin has cocktail bars and craft beer, the streets around Tha Phae Gate have backpacker bars and rooftop terraces, and Loi Kroh Road is a brasher strip, though most places close around midnight.

Yogyakarta's evenings are lively but mostly sober. Students gather at coffee carts and families pedal lit-up cars around Alun-Alun Kidul. Drinking is limited to a small cluster of bars in Prawirotaman.

Mountains frame both cities, but they feel quite different. Chiang Mai's are green and forested: Doi Suthep-Pui begins at the edge of town, Doi Inthanon has cloud forest and birdlife, and the valleys offer rafting, ziplines and treks to hill villages.

Yogyakarta's landscape is volcanic and limestone. Jeep tours cross Merapi's lava fields, Merbabu makes an overnight climb, and in Gunungkidul you can drop on a rope into the Jomblang shaft or float through a river cave at Goa Pindul.

This is where Yogyakarta pulls clearly ahead. Borobudur and Prambanan are world-class sites within easy driving distance, the Sewu, Plaosan and Ratu Boko temples cluster near Prambanan, and the royal city of Solo is a comfortable train ride away.

Chiang Mai's outings are smaller in scale: the gilded chedi at Lamphun, Lampang's horse-drawn carriages and teak mansions, and the craft villages of Bo Sang and San Kamphaeng. Chiang Rai and Pai are too far for a comfortable day trip.

Chiang Mai is the easier of the two with children. Elephant sanctuaries where families feed and walk with the animals, the zoo, the Night Safari and the quarry swimming parks fill several days, and the city is calmer to move around.

Yogyakarta has the Gembira Loka zoo, Taman Pintar and cave tubing, but its main draw, the temples, means early starts, long drives and many steps in humid heat. In either city, children are welcomed warmly and broken pavements make pushchairs hard work.

Neither city has a metro. In both you walk the compact centre and use ride-hailing apps for anything further.

The local transport is what differs. Chiang Mai has red songthaew pickups, tuk-tuks and, for confident riders, a hired scooter for the hills. Yogyakarta has becak rickshaws, horse carts and an easy commuter train to Solo. In both cities the big excursions usually mean a car and driver.

Both are craft cities, but Chiang Mai offers more in one place. The Sunday Walking Street, the Saturday market on Wualai Road and the Night Bazaar every evening bring together textiles, carved wood, celadon, lacquerware and hill-tribe embroidery, and Nimmanhaemin adds small design studios.

Yogyakarta's range is narrower but deep in its specialities: hand-drawn batik, Kotagede filigree silver, Kasongan pottery and wayang puppets. Expect to bargain along Malioboro and in Beringharjo market.

Both are very cheap, and a modest budget goes a long way in either. What differs is where the money goes. In Chiang Mai the temples are free or nearly so, and the costs that add up are sanctuary visits, treks and cooking classes. In Yogyakarta the foreigners' entry fees at Borobudur and Prambanan can be the largest single cost of the stay.

Yogyakarta has far more to watch. It is the home of Javanese classical arts, with the Ramayana ballet performed in front of the floodlit towers of Prambanan, gamelan and court dance in the Kraton pavilions, and shortened wayang kulit shows at Sonobudoyo.

Chiang Mai offers live music rather than staged art. There are jazz and blues jams near the north gate and bands in Nimmanhaemin, and visitors also go to khantoke dinners with Lanna dance and to Muay Thai fight nights.

Chiang Mai is made for slowing down. Thai massage is part of daily life and taught at long-established schools, Wat Umong and Wat Suan Dok run meditation retreats, and the San Kamphaeng hot springs are close by.

Yogyakarta's offer is more about pampering: lulur spice scrubs and flower baths from the court tradition, jamu tonics from market stalls, and villa resorts on the cooler slopes towards Merapi. The centre itself is too hot and noisy to be restful, and there are no hot springs.