Leh or Thimphu?

Neither city has anywhere to swim, as both lie deep in the Himalaya with no coast nearby. The only difference is what the water is for. In Leh the snowmelt-fed Indus and Zanskar are used for rafting. In Thimphu the Wang Chhu is a cold river to walk beside, and a swim means one of the few hotel pools.

The two kitchens share momos and butter tea, and neither is a reason to travel on its own, but they taste quite different. Leh leans on warming Tibetan and Ladakhi noodle soups, skyu and its prized apricots, while the trekkers' rooftop cafés around Changspa serve pizza and good coffee.

Thimphu has the bolder home cooking: ema datshi, chillies in melted cheese, with red rice at almost every meal, though you may have to ask for the real heat. Its best food outing is the weekend Centenary Farmers' Market rather than any restaurant.

Thimphu has the edge, mostly because its monuments are part of daily life. Tashichho Dzong houses both the government and the monk body, residents circle the Memorial Chorten from dawn, and the Zorig Chusum institute and Textile Museum show traditional crafts still being taught and practised. That is enough for two or three days.

Leh town is a shorter visit. A day or two covers the towering Leh Palace, the mud-brick old town and sunset at Shanti Stupa. Its finest art lies in the valley monasteries outside town rather than in Leh itself.

Neither is a place for nights out, but Thimphu at least has some. Locals take karaoke seriously, drayangs have singers performing on request, and a couple of small clubs fill up at weekends. Leh offers a late rooftop dinner and perhaps a beer, and then the cold and the early starts send everyone to bed.

Both are mountain bases, but Leh's landscape is bigger and wilder. It is a bare high valley beneath the Stok range, with the Markha valley trek, the road over Khardung La above 5,000m, rafting in the Zanskar gorges, and Pangong Tso and the Nubra dunes as overnight trips. Winter adds snow leopard tracking and the frozen Chadar.

Thimphu is green rather than stark: a pine-forested valley where walks to Tango, Cheri and Phajoding start at the edge of the city and the Druk Path trek begins nearby. It needs much less acclimatisation, but the monsoon hides the trails and the Dochula views in cloud.

Leh has the wider choice within a day's reach. Thiksey and Shey are under half an hour away and Hemis about an hour. A full day to the west takes in Likir, the ruined citadel at Basgo and the thousand-year-old paintings of Alchi, although nearly everything is a monastery or a palace.

Thimphu has really only one outing, but it is a superb one: Paro, where the climb to Taktsang, the Tiger's Nest, takes up most of the day. Dochula fits into half a day, and Punakha is too far to see properly and get back the same day.

Neither is easy with small children, but Thimphu is the gentler choice. At about 2,300m the altitude is usually manageable, the city is safe and welcoming to children, and the takins at Motithang, the prayer wheels and short forest walks give younger ones something to do.

Leh is reached by a single flight to around 3,500m, so altitude sickness is a real risk for children, and most days involve long drives on mountain roads. It works only for sturdy teenagers who are keen on trekking or rafting.

Both have a walkable centre, and everything else needs a car, but Thimphu makes this easier. The car and driver included in most Bhutan itineraries handle the steep roads up to Buddha Dordenma and the head of the valley, and taxis cover the gaps around Norzin Lam, where a white-gloved policeman directs the traffic. The cost is less freedom to explore on your own.

In Leh, the walk from the Main Bazaar to the old town is short but leaves you out of breath at this altitude, and buses beyond town are sparse. You depend on the fixed-fare taxi union, hired motorbikes or shared jeeps for the long drives, and some passes close in winter.

Both sell thangkas, prayer flags and Himalayan crafts, and neither has much else. Leh's Main Bazaar is stronger on pashmina, turquoise and coral jewellery and trekking gear, though much of the stock repeats and quality varies.

Thimphu's prize is handwoven textiles, from kira fabric to yak-wool pieces. They are sold at the government handicraft emporium and the craft stalls along Norzin Lam, and wooden masks and the ritual objects at the weekend market add to the choice.

This is where the two differ most. Leh is cheap once you arrive, with homestays and simple meals costing little. The real expenses are taxis, car hire and permits for the outer valleys, and hotels charge more in summer.

Everyday costs in Thimphu, such as local cafés and taxis, are low too. However, Bhutan's long-standing daily fee for most foreign visitors, together with the usual guide, driver and tourist-standard hotels, makes every night expensive. A shorter stay keeps the total down, but there is no budget way to do it.

Both share the same great tradition of masked cham dances performed by monks, but Thimphu gives you more chances to see live performance. The Tshechu fills the courtyard of Tashichho Dzong for several days each autumn, and through the rest of the year the Royal Academy of Performing Arts, the drayangs and a few Bhutanese bands keep folk music going.

In Leh it is a festival or nothing. The summer Hemis festival and the Losar celebrations are deeply moving, but at other times there are only occasional cultural evenings put on for tourists.

Thimphu is the more restful of the two. The dotsho, a wooden tub of river water heated with fire-hot stones and artemisia, eases tired legs, upscale lodges offer massage based on traditional medicine, and the lower altitude makes for proper sleep.

Leh's calm is plainer. It offers meditation courses at Buddhist centres, consultations with amchi practitioners and slow guesthouse mornings, but thin air, dry skin and broken first nights make it a place for quiet reflection rather than pampering.