San Marino or Split?

In San Marino the sea is a view from the walls, and swimming means a half-hour drive down to Rimini or Riccione. There you find long sandy beaches with rows of umbrellas and shallow water, good for an afternoon out but never part of daily life.

Split puts the Adriatic on your doorstep. Bačvice, a sandy bay just east of the harbour, is a short walk from the palace, and the pine-shaded pebble coves around Marjan have deeper, clearer water. The ferries to Brač, Šolta and Hvar add calmer beaches, but expect pebbles and concrete platforms rather than the Riviera's wide sand.

Split eats better. Its kitchen is built on the sea, with grilled fish, squid, black risotto and octopus under the peka bell, and the fish market and the Pazar by the palace walls set the rhythm. Family konobas in Varoš serve it well, with Plavac Mali and Pošip to drink.

San Marino offers the hearty inland cooking of Romagna and Montefeltro: hand-rolled pasta, passatelli in broth, piadina and the Tre Monti wafer cake. The summit terraces lean on the view, though, so the good meals mean heading down to Borgo Maggiore or over the border.

Both are small historic towns seen in a short visit, but Split's centrepiece is in another league. Diocletian's Palace is a Roman complex still lived in, with the cathedral in the emperor's mausoleum, vaulted substructures below and Venetian lanes around it. The Meštrović Gallery adds a fine museum.

San Marino's appeal is the setting and the idea. The three towers along the cliff edge, the Palazzo Pubblico and the basilica tell the story of one of the oldest surviving republics, but the museums are modest and half a day covers it.

After dark, San Marino offers a glass of wine on a terrace with the coast's lights below and little else. A real night out means driving down to the Riviera clubs at Rimini and Riccione.

Split has a proper summer scene of its own. Bars spill into the palace's stone alleys and stairways, and the beach bars and clubs around Bačvice run into the early hours. Out of season it shrinks to a few bars and coffee with locals.

Split's landscape is far wilder. Marjan's forest park is on foot from the centre, Mosor and Kozjak rise behind the city, and Biokovo climbs above 1,700m an hour to the south. Add rafting in the Cetina canyon at Omiš, Krka's travertine falls and sailing among the islands, and the range is wide.

San Marino has Monte Titano, a limestone ridge of about 740m with cliff-edge paths, woodland walks down to Borgo Maggiore and views to the Apennines. The Montefeltro hills suit a scenic drive or a bike ride, but there is nothing demanding nearby.

From San Marino the outings lead to Italian art cities and fortress towns: San Leo on its rock across the valley, Urbino's Renaissance court, Gradara's castle and the hill towns of Santarcangelo and Verucchio. Those really need a car. The coast is different. The bus down to Rimini brings you to its Roman arch and bridge and to the train for Ravenna's Byzantine mosaics and for Bologna.

Split comes out a little ahead because more of it works without driving. Buses reach medieval Trogir, Šibenik's cathedral and the Roman ruins at Salona, with Klis Fortress close by. Ferries from the harbour turn Hvar, Brač and Vis into easy island days. In winter the timetables need more planning.

Split is slightly easier with children in daily life. You can walk to shallow Bačvice for paddling, let them run in Marjan's shade, and a ferry ride to an island usually becomes the highlight. There are no theme parks, though, and July and August are hot and packed.

San Marino's towers, battlements and cable car thrill children, but the steep steps make pushchairs hard work. The purpose-built fun lies down on the coast, at Italia in Miniatura, Fiabilandia and the Riccione waterparks, which suits a family with a car.

Split is much simpler on foot. The palace, Riva, markets, Varoš and Bačvice lie within about fifteen minutes of each other, and the port and the bus and train stations sit together at the harbour. A car only matters for inland trailheads.

In San Marino, nearly every street climbs or drops by steps, and the cable car links the summit with Borgo Maggiore. The bus from Rimini is the only practical public link, so exploring the surrounding hills really means driving.

Neither is a shopping destination, but the appeal differs. San Marino trades on lower taxes, with perfume, watches, leather and spirits along its main streets, collectors' stamps and coins, and an outlet centre in the valley. Split is better for edible souvenirs: honey, dried figs, brandies, olive oil and Dalmatian wine from the Pazar market by the palace gate.

San Marino is the slightly cheaper stay, priced like provincial central Italy, with moderate hotels outside August and fairly priced trattorias below the summit. Cheaper fuel helps on a driving trip, though the view terraces up top charge for the panorama.

Split swings with the season. In July and August, old-town rooms and fish sold by weight are expensive, and island ferries add up for a family. In May, June, late September and winter it is far more reasonable, and bakeries, markets and the palace sights stay inexpensive all year.

Split has a real stage. The Croatian National Theatre beside the palace runs opera, ballet and drama, the summer festival puts opera in the Peristyle courtyard, and klapa singers often fill the domed vestibule with unaccompanied harmonies.

San Marino has a small theatre, occasional local concerts and its summer Medieval Days, with costumed musicians, crossbow contests and flag-throwers. For opera it sends you to Pesaro or Bologna.

Neither has a bathing tradition, so spas mean hotel facilities in both. Split offers more ways to slow down: fjaka, the Dalmatian habit of long coffees on the Riva, the pine woods of Marjan and a quick escape to a quieter island.

San Marino's calm comes in the evening, once the day visitors leave and the walls are yours for a walk above the plain. Summer days around the towers are crowded, and the thermal spas are a separate trip into Romagna or the Apennines.