St Barts or US Virgin Islands?

Both are superb, and the difference is in kind. St Barts packs a dozen small coves into a few kilometres: wild, shadeless Saline and Gouverneur, the reef-sheltered lagoons of Grand Cul-de-Sac, and Colombier reached only on foot or by boat, all within a short drive of any villa.

The US Virgin Islands offer more beaches and longer ones, spread across three islands. St John's north shore inside the national park, with Trunk Bay and Cinnamon Bay, is the classic Caribbean picture, Magens Bay is a long sheltered curve, and Coki Point lets you snorkel straight from the sand, though reaching the best of them can take a ferry or a winding drive.

St Barts eats better. It is a piece of France in the tropics, with real boulangeries, cheese and wine in the supermarkets for villa cooking, and long lunches on the sand at Saline or Flamands, though nearly everything sits in the same polished, costly register.

The US Virgin Islands are more West Indian at heart: kallaloo, fungi, johnnycakes and pates from roadside stands and festival food fairs, with St Croix and its rum distilleries as the place to look. Around the St Thomas resorts and Cruz Bay, though, menus turn to American dishes, and it is rarely a reason to come.

Neither is a cultural trip, but the Virgin Islands have clearly more to show. Christiansted's arcaded streets and yellow fort, Charlotte Amalie's 99 Steps and its sand-floored synagogue, and the plantation ruins at Annaberg and Whim fill a few worthwhile half-days and tell the story of Danish rule and slavery.

St Barts' Swedish past is a curiosity rather than an itinerary: the clock tower and Wall House museum in Gustavia, the fort remains above the harbour and the fishing village of Corossol take an hour or two at most.

St Barts has the stronger scene in season, and it is a showier one: beach lunches at St Jean that turn into dancing on the tables, harbour bars in Gustavia, a couple of late clubs and yachts at New Year. Outside winter and spring it goes very quiet.

In the US Virgin Islands evenings are more casual and rum-soaked, centred on the open-air strips of Red Hook and Cruz Bay and Christiansted's boardwalk, usually winding down early except during carnival and the Crucian Christmas festival.

The Virgin Islands have far more outdoors. Most of St John is national park, with green hills, dry forest and the Reef Bay trail past petroglyphs, and the islands sit in sheltered sailing water ideal for day sails, kayaking and diving, plus Buck Island's underwater trail.

St Barts is drier and smaller: scrubby hills, a cliff path from Flamands to Colombier, turtle snorkelling in the marine reserve and kitesurfing on the Grand Cul-de-Sac lagoon. It is lovely, but a few days exhausts it.

From St Barts there is essentially one outing, the hour-long ferry to St Martin for Marigot, Grand Case and Philipsburg, and most visitors simply stay put.

The US Virgin Islands give more choice. St John is a short ferry from St Thomas, Water Island is minutes from Charlotte Amalie, and with a passport you can reach Jost Van Dyke, Tortola or Virgin Gorda in the British Virgin Islands within an hour or so, though the outings are mostly beaches and small islands.

The Virgin Islands are the easier choice with children. Maho Bay lets them snorkel among feeding turtles in shallow water, Coki Point has touch pools and an underwater observatory, and glass-bottom boats and island hops fill the days. American families also skip the passport and the currency exchange.

St Barts is very safe and its lagoons and Shell Beach are gentle for toddlers, but it is shaped around adults, with no attractions for children, so older ones may tire of it once the paddleboarding is done.

St Barts is a little easier. It is one small island, so a hired car gets you to any beach in minutes, and Gustavia and St Jean can be walked, though the steep hairpin roads unnerve some drivers and arrival means a small plane or a ferry from St Martin.

The Virgin Islands add distance and left-hand driving to similarly steep, narrow roads. Shared safari taxis and the Red Hook to Cruz Bay ferries make St Thomas and St John simple to combine, but St Croix is a separate flight or long ferry away.

Both lean on duty-free luxury, but the feel differs. Gustavia's harbour streets hold genuine fashion, watch and jewellery boutiques for a well-heeled crowd, with resort wear in St Jean and straw work from Corossol.

Charlotte Amalie's Danish warehouses are stocked mainly with jewellers, watches and liquor for cruise passengers, and repeat themselves, so the more personal finds are the island-made crafts at Mongoose Junction and in Christiansted, including St Croix's hook bracelets.

Neither is cheap, but St Barts is in a league of its own: villas, hotels, beach lunches, the small-plane flight and the car hire all come at prices for the very wealthy, and only cooking in a villa eases it.

The Virgin Islands cost a lot too, yet they offer real ways to save, from St Croix and St John's guesthouses and campgrounds to beaches and park trails that are free, and lower rates in summer and autumn.

The Virgin Islands have more of their own sound: quelbe scratch bands rooted in the plantation era, steel pan, calypso and the mocko jumbie stilt dancers, with touring concerts at the university amphitheatre on St Thomas. You catch it at festivals and beach bars rather than in a season.

St Barts has little beyond its long-established January music festival of classical music, opera and dance in Gustavia's churches, plus harbour-bar bands and the pre-Lent carnival.

Much alike: neither has a bathing tradition, and both rely on resort spas, yoga and massage, with St Barts' luxury hotel spas and villa visits more polished. The calm comes in different shapes, though: St Barts is quiet everywhere except New Year week, while in the Virgin Islands you pick St John or St Croix's east end to escape the cruise traffic of Charlotte Amalie.