Pai or Sapa?

Neither town has a coast, so plan any beach time for another part of the trip. Pai at least gives you some way to cool off: tubing down the Pai River in the hot season, a dip under Mo Paeng waterfall and guesthouse pools. In Sapa the mountain streams are cold and shallow, and nobody swims in them.

The food is about equally good in both places, but it tastes of very different places. Pai's walking street mixes khao soi and Shan dishes with grilled skewers, and its cafés cater to long-stay travellers with vegan plates, pizza and good coffee. Santichon village adds Yunnanese noodles and tea.

Sapa eats for the cold. There are hotpots of farmed salmon and sturgeon, charcoal grills by the lake and Hmong dishes such as thang co, washed down with corn wine. Pai is easier for a vegetarian, while Sapa tastes more of the place itself.

Sapa has more to offer here, though not inside the town. Apart from the French-era stone church and a small ethnographic museum, its culture lives in the Black Hmong, Red Dao, Tay and Giay villages along the trails, where you see indigo dyeing, weaving and wooden houses. The further from town you walk, the more everyday life you see.

Pai's sights fill about half a day. There is the white Buddha at Wat Phra That Mae Yen, a few Shan-style temples, the wartime iron bridge and Santichon's mud-brick houses. The town is pleasant, but you go for the valley rather than its heritage.

Pai is easily the livelier of the two. After the night market, the bars along and off the walking street fill with backpackers, from reggae spots to open-air gardens, with the odd party out of town. There are no clubs, and things wind down around midnight.

Sapa's evenings are built around the next morning's trek. A handful of travellers' bars with pool tables and the grill stalls by the lake are about all there is, and most people are in bed early.

Both places are all about the landscape, but Sapa's is on a bigger scale. From a ridge at 1,500m, its rice terraces fall for kilometres into the Muong Hoa valley, and walking routes start right at the edge of town. Fansipan, the highest peak in Indochina, gives you a real summit, whether you climb it or take the cable car.

Pai's valley is gentler and greener: the eroded ridges of Pai Canyon at sunset, the Pam Bok and Mo Paeng waterfalls, mist at the Yun Lai viewpoint and the great cave of Tham Lod. Much of it is explored by scooter rather than on foot.

Sapa has more to do beyond town. Bac Ha's Sunday market, where Flower Hmong trade buffalo and textiles, is about two hours away, and smaller weekly markets at Can Cau and Coc Ly have fewer visitors.

From Pai, the Lahu and Lisu villages near Soppong are the main outing. Mae Hong Son and Chiang Mai lie three winding hours away, which makes them a change of base rather than a day out.

Both work for families with older children who like being outdoors, and both are hard going with toddlers. Pai's draws are gentler: farm visits, hot springs, river tubing and the night market, though the road from Chiang Mai is notorious for making children sick. Sapa offers village walks, buffalo in the paddies and the Fansipan cable car, but it also has steep streets, cold rooms in winter and persistent vendors.

Sapa is a little easier without your own wheels. Trekking trails lead straight from town to the villages, and a short tram runs down to the cable car station. Drivers and motorbike taxis cover the rest, though getting there from Hanoi takes most of a day.

In Pai you can walk the centre in minutes, but the canyon, waterfalls and hot springs are spread across the valley with no public transport. That leaves a rented scooter, which is risky on the hill roads for beginners, or hired songthaews and tours.

Neither is a shopping destination, and both mostly sell handmade goods. Pai's evening stalls are relaxed and light-hearted, with cotton trousers, woven bags, jewellery and art prints, though much of the range repeats from stall to stall. Sapa's crafts are rooted in the hill peoples, with Hmong indigo cloth, Dao embroidery and silver, and the best pieces are fine handwork, though you have to spot the machine-made copies and handle insistent sellers.

Both are very cheap, and a long stay costs little in either. In Pai the savings come from bungalows, night-market meals and scooter rental, while prices in the centre rise around the new year. In Sapa they come from village homestays, street grills and guided treks. The Fansipan cable car is the one real splurge, and you are expected to bargain for crafts and rides.

Pai has the more lasting live music, as most nights several bars host acoustic sets and blues, reggae or jazz jams by local and passing musicians. The quality varies, but there is usually something to hear.

Sapa has no venues at all. Its music comes from short weekend shows of Hmong and Dao pan pipes and dance in the town square or in villages. They are worth a look, and they show a culture Pai's bar stages don't, but they are brief.

This is one of Pai's clearest advantages. A forest soak at the Tha Pai hot springs, cheap Thai massage on every street and retreats lasting from a day to several weeks make the town itself a place to unwind, at least outside the hazy burning season.

Sapa's highlight is the Red Dao herbal bath in wooden tubs, which is a real pleasure after trekking. Yet the town is noisy with traffic and selling, so calm means staying out in a valley homestay.