Kerala or Lakshadweep?

Lakshadweep wins easily for swimming. Its beaches face sheltered coral lagoons that are shallow and clear, where swimmers of any level can stay in the water for hours. Agatti, Bangaram and Kadmat have long white beaches with almost nobody on them, though shade and sunbeds are scarce.

Kerala's coast is longer and more varied, from the red cliffs above Varkala to the village sands at Marari. But the open Arabian Sea breaks straight onto it, and its surf and rip currents keep careful swimmers between the lifeguard flags. It is a better backdrop than a sea to swim in.

Kerala is one of the strongest food regions in India. Around Kochi there is Syrian Christian appam and stew, in Kozhikode there is Mappila biryani, and there are banana-leaf sadya feasts and pearl spot fish by the backwaters. Good everyday meals are cheap almost everywhere.

Lakshadweep shares some of that Malabar base, with tuna, coconut and its own smoked mas. But you eat set menus where you sleep, and there are almost no restaurants or markets to explore. Alcohol is limited in Kerala and restricted much more tightly on the islands.

Kerala has far more to see. Fort Kochi and Mattancherry alone fit Portuguese, Dutch and British history, the Paradesi Synagogue and the murals of the Dutch Palace into a short walk. The temple architecture of Thrissur and the wooden Padmanabhapuram Palace add more, even if many temples admit only Hindus.

Lakshadweep has the carved Ujra Mosque on Kavaratti and, on Minicoy, a British-era lighthouse and villages that feel close to the Maldives. They are interesting as a picture of island life, but they fill a morning rather than a trip.

Neither place is for going out, but Kerala at least has some life in the evenings. In the dry season the Varkala clifftop has candlelit cafés and music until late evening, and Kochi has bars in its larger hotels. Lakshadweep has no bars at all, so nights mean dinner, a walk on the sand and the stars.

Kerala has the wider range of landscapes. There are the backwater lagoons around Alappuzha and Kumarakom, tea estates and Nilgiri tahr at Munnar, elephants at Periyar and trekking trails in Wayanad. It suits walkers, wildlife watchers and anyone who enjoys slow travel by boat.

In Lakshadweep almost all the nature is underwater. Turtles, rays, reef sharks and dolphins gather along the reef drop-offs, and for divers and snorkellers they beat anything on Kerala's coast. On land, though, the islands are flat palm groves with no hills or trails.

Kerala is better for outings, although most visitors travel a circuit rather than stay in one base. From Kochi you can reach the old synagogues and mosque of the Muziris heritage area or the temples of Thrissur. From Thiruvananthapuram you can go to Kanyakumari at the southern tip of India.

In Lakshadweep a day out means a boat to Bangaram, Thinnakara or the Parali islets for more sand and snorkelling. The other inhabited islands each take a separate ship or helicopter journey.

The two suit families in different ways. Kerala has more for children to do, with nights on a houseboat, boat trips to see wildlife at Periyar, and elephants. But long, winding drives, rough seas and humid heat tire children out, and a resort with a pool at Marari or on the backwaters makes things easier.

Lakshadweep has about the gentlest sea a child could ask for and almost no traffic. Beyond that there is nothing aimed at children, and medical care is basic. It works for families who are happy with a quiet week of swimming.

Kerala is the easier of two awkward places. A railway along the coast links the main towns, Kochi has a metro and harbour ferries, and a hired car with a driver handles the slow hill roads to Munnar and Thekkady.

Once you arrive in Lakshadweep, getting around is easy, because the islands are small enough to walk or cycle. Getting there is the hard part. You need a permit and either a small plane to Agatti or most of a day on a ship from Kochi, and moving between islands depends on ships and helicopters that run infrequently.

Kerala has real things to bring home: spices and antiques from the lanes of Jew Town, tea and cardamom from Munnar, kasavu sarees woven at Balaramapuram, and Kathakali masks, though there is little fashion. Lakshadweep has village stores and a few outlets selling coir work, shell items and dried tuna, and not much more.

Kerala is far cheaper. Homestays, trains, auto-rickshaws and local meals cost very little. Only a private houseboat, an Ayurveda programme or a car with a driver for the hills pushes the bill up much.

Lakshadweep costs well above mainland norms. Rooms are scarce and often sold as packages with meals included, and the flights and boat transfers add up. The government guesthouses on Agatti and Kavaratti are the cheaper option, and once you are there, there is little else to spend money on.

Kerala has some of India's most striking stage traditions. In Fort Kochi and Thekkady you can watch Kathakali actors being made up before the show. There are also displays of Kalaripayattu, the local martial art, Kutiyattam theatre in temples, Theyyam in north Malabar from about December to April, and the drums and elephants of Thrissur Pooram.

Lakshadweep's Lava, Kolkali and Parichakali dances are sometimes performed at festivals or for visiting groups, but you can't plan a trip around seeing them.

For treatment, Kerala is the obvious choice. It is the home of Ayurveda, with everything from a single oil massage to a supervised panchakarma programme at Kovalam, Varkala, Kumarakom and Wayanad, and yoga is taught almost everywhere.

Lakshadweep offers a different kind of rest: no traffic, no nightlife and nothing to do. That suits people who unwind by switching off completely, but there is little more than an occasional massage at a resort.