Kathmandu or Kolkata?

Neither city is a swimming destination, and in both a swim means a hotel pool. The difference is what lies beyond. From Kolkata, the Bay of Bengal beaches at Digha and Mandarmani are at least four hours away, close enough for an overnight trip to the coast. Landlocked Kathmandu has no shore at all, and its cold mountain rivers are for rafting, not swimming.

Kolkata is the clear winner for food. Bengali cooking is a cuisine in its own right, with river fish in mustard oil, kosha mangsho and a sweet tradition kept up by old family confectioners. Its history shows on the plate too: Nawabi biryani with potato, Chinese cooking in Tangra and Anglo-Indian grills on Park Street.

Kathmandu's best food is Newari, such as choila, bara and yomari in small places around the old bazaars and Patan. Beyond that it means momos, dal bhat and Tibetan noodle soup near Boudhanath, and the Thamel menus are uneven.

Kathmandu has the edge, because its heritage is still in daily use. Pilgrims circle Boudhanath at dusk, cremations take place in the open at Pashupatinath, and the Durbar Squares in the city and in Patan pack pagoda temples and palace courtyards into working markets. The Patan Museum explains the Newari craft you see all around.

Kolkata gives a different kind of trip, built on colonial architecture: the Victoria Memorial, the imperial buildings around BBD Bagh and the Georgian tombs of South Park Street Cemetery, alongside Tagore's home and Kalighat. It has the stronger museums, with the Indian Museum and the Marble Palace, but much of the old city is decaying and hard to read without a guide.

The two are about level, with quiet nights that end around midnight, but the crowds differ. Kathmandu's nightlife is almost all in Thamel, where rooftop bars, pool halls and a few clubs fill with trekkers celebrating the end of a route.

Kolkata's evenings centre on Park Street's old bars and supper-club tradition, plus hotel lounges in the south and Salt Lake, though dry days can close them. Its real nights out come at Durga Puja, when the whole city stays out touring the pandals.

This is where the two differ most. Kathmandu's valley is ringed by forested hills with the Himalaya behind them. There are rhododendron trails in Shivapuri Nagarjun, the cable car up Chandragiri, sunrise over the snow peaks from Nagarkot, mountain flights past Everest and rafting rivers a few hours out.

Kolkata sits on a flat, humid delta, so being outdoors means the Maidan, the lakes at Rabindra Sarovar, the great banyan in the Botanic Garden and a sunset boat on the Hooghly. Its one big natural draw, the Sundarbans mangroves, needs a boat trip of several days.

Kathmandu has the better single day out. Bhaktapur, a complete old royal town of brick squares and five-tiered temples, is about an hour away, and Changu Narayan fits into the same day. After that come Kirtipur, Bungamati and Pharping, all smaller variations on Newari life, and the traffic slows every outing.

Kolkata's easy outing is a day along the Hooghly through the old Danish, French, Dutch and Portuguese trading towns. Its best excursions, Shantiniketan, Bishnupur and Murshidabad, are each three hours or more away and need an overnight stay.

Kolkata has more that is made for children: Science City's hands-on halls, Alipore Zoo, the rides at Nicco Park, the Birla Planetarium and the Maidan's open lawns. In Kathmandu, children will love the monkeys at Swayambhunath and the prayer wheels at Boudhanath, but beyond those there is only a small zoo and the Garden of Dreams.

Neither city is easy with young children, because of the traffic, the crowds and the care needed with food and water. Kolkata's heat is the bigger problem there, while in Kathmandu it is dust and winter air. Kathmandu works best for families with older children heading on to a trek.

Kolkata is easier to cover because it has India's oldest metro, running north to south through the centre to Park Street and Kalighat, as well as cheap ferries across the Hooghly to Howrah. Taxis, app cabs and auto-rickshaws fill the gaps.

Kathmandu has no metro or tram, and its minibuses are hard for a visitor to work out, so you rely on taxis and ride-hailing motorbikes. Its old city and Thamel are compact enough to walk, but the trip to Patan or Boudhanath can drag in traffic.

Both cities are about craft rather than fashion, but the crafts differ. Kathmandu sells pashmina, singing bowls and trekking gear in Thamel, often copies, plus carpets and thangka paintings around Boudhanath and cast bronze from Patan's own workshops, and bargaining is expected.

Kolkata is the place for textiles, with Bengal handloom saris, Baluchari silk and kantha embroidery in Gariahat. It also has the Victorian halls of New Market, the book stalls of College Street and malls for modern brands.

Both are among the cheapest places a visitor can travel, so cost will rarely decide between them. Where the money goes differs. In Kathmandu it is the entry fees for foreigners at the Durbar Squares, Pashupatinath and Bhaktapur, and above all trekking permits and mountain flights. In Kolkata, monument entry stays low, and only luxury hotels and imported alcohol add up.

Kolkata has much more on stage. Its group-theatre companies fill the Academy of Fine Arts and Rabindra Sadan most evenings, and the Dover Lane Music Conference brings great Hindustani musicians every winter. Tagore's songs and Baul singers add more, although much of the theatre is in Bengali.

In Kathmandu, live performance means cover bands in Thamel and dinner shows of regional dance. Its finest moments come from religious life, such as the masked dances of Indra Jatra and temple singing at dusk, and its jazz festival runs only in autumn.

Kathmandu is far better for rest and reflection. Monasteries such as Kopan teach meditation and Buddhist philosophy to foreigners, and yoga, Ayurveda and inexpensive massage are on every lane. When the city gets too loud, you can retreat to a garden courtyard or the valley rim.

Kolkata has little of this beyond hotel spas and a few Ayurvedic centres. Its calm comes unplanned, in early mornings on the ghats or on the lawns of Belur Math.