Tbilisi or Yerevan?

Neither city is a beach destination, but Yerevan has the better swim within reach. Lake Sevan, about an hour away, has sandy and pebbly stretches below Sevanavank, with clear, cool water in late summer and beach huts and fish restaurants along the shore.

Tbilisi's options are for cooling off rather than for a day by the water: the Tbilisi Sea reservoir, Lisi and Turtle lakes, and pools. The Black Sea is a separate journey of about five hours.

Both cities cook over the grill and bake bread in clay ovens, but Tbilisi has the richer table. Khinkali, Adjarian khachapuri, walnut and pomegranate sauces and the toastmaster-led supra make up a cuisine people travel for. Qvevri wine from Kakheti makes the wine bars of Sololaki worth a visit for their own sake.

Yerevan's cooking has a narrower range: khorovats over vine cuttings, lavash, dolma and the stalls of the GUM market, with brandy tastings by the Hrazdan gorge as its signature drink. It is satisfying, but there is less to explore. Neither city offers much beyond its own region's cooking.

The two are evenly matched, but they show very different cities. Tbilisi is an old town to wander: crooked lanes below Narikala, carved wooden balconies, sixth-century Anchiskhati and the domed baths. Art Nouveau Sololaki lies beyond, and the Colchian gold of the National Museum is the main collection.

Yerevan is a planned twentieth-century city of pink and orange tuff around Republic Square, and its strength lies in a few weighty institutions. The Matenadaran holds its medieval manuscripts, the Genocide Memorial stands at Tsitsernakaberd, and the Cascade looks out to Ararat. Apart from Erebuni, its oldest monuments lie outside the city.

Tbilisi is the place to go out. Its techno clubs in industrial and Soviet-era buildings draw DJs and dancers from across Europe and run until well after dawn. Courtyard bars near Marjanishvili and wine bars in Sololaki fill the hours before.

In Yerevan, evenings happen on terraces rather than dance floors. On summer nights, families and friends stay out around Northern Avenue, Saryan Street and the singing fountains of Republic Square until past midnight. It makes a pleasant, easy night out, but the club scene is small.

Yerevan has more varied outdoor country close at hand. Aragats, at over 4,000m, can be hiked from the lake at Kari, and the Garni gorge has its basalt columns. The wooded hills of Dilijan and the Khosrov reserve feel very different from the dry Ararat plain, although trails are basic.

Tbilisi's green hills, the funicular to Mtatsminda and the trails of Tbilisi National Park are good for a half day. The Greater Caucasus beyond Gudauri is spectacular, but Kazbegi and the high valleys really need a night away.

Both cities are excellent bases for excursions, and in both the country outside matters as much as the city. Tbilisi's outings cover more ground: Mtskheta half an hour away, the rock-cut town of Uplistsikhe, the Kakheti wine villages around Sighnaghi and the semi-desert cave monastery of David Gareja.

Yerevan's day trips mostly lead to churches and monasteries, from Echmiadzin and Geghard to Khor Virap below Ararat and red-cliffed Noravank. Gyumri, with its old town of black stone, can be reached by train. For most other trips from either city you will want a driver or a tour.

Children get a warm welcome in both cities, and neither has the aquariums or theme parks that fill a family itinerary. Tbilisi's treat is the funicular to the Mtatsminda amusement park and its Ferris wheel, but the steep, cobbled Old Town and the underpasses with stairs are hard going with a pushchair.

Yerevan's compact centre is easier for an evening out with children, with the singing fountains and the Cascade's steps and sculptures. Beyond that, little is made for children, and the long drives to the monasteries suit older ones best.

Getting around is much the same in both: walkable centres, a Soviet-built metro that covers only part of what you need, buses that are hard to work out, and cheap ride-hailing to fill the gaps. The difference is the ground underfoot. Tbilisi's centre climbs and dips over broken pavements, with deep metro stations and underpasses at busy roads, while in Yerevan, Republic Square, the Opera and the Cascade are a short stroll apart along tree-lined avenues.

Shopping is a small part of a trip to either city, and in both the best things to buy are local. Tbilisi's Dry Bridge market spreads Soviet relics, old silver and paintings along the river. There is also cloisonné enamel and a handful of local designers in Vera and Sololaki.

Yerevan's Vernissage near Republic Square is the equivalent, with more carved wood, backgammon boards and obsidian. The drink to take home is brandy rather than qvevri wine or chacha. In both cities the chains and malls add little.

Both are inexpensive by European standards, but Tbilisi stretches a budget further. Guesthouses and simple apartments are plentiful, a Georgian meal with wine costs little and many churches and sights are free.

In Yerevan, food, taxis and museums are just as cheap. Central hotels and apartments, though, cost more than everything else would suggest, especially in summer, so accommodation is where the gap opens up.

Each capital has an opera and ballet house at its heart, and in both most drama is staged in the local language, which limits it for visitors. What sets Tbilisi apart is its folk tradition: the athletic national dance ensembles, polyphonic singing in church services and the Gabriadze marionette plays, which need no translation.

Yerevan has more music on an ordinary night. There is the Philharmonic, chamber recitals at the Komitas hall, Khachaturian's ballets in the opera season, duduk ensembles and small jazz clubs playing live most evenings.

Here the gap is wide. Tbilisi grew up around its warm springs, and a private room under the brick domes of Abanotubani, with a hot sulphur pool and a scrub, is one of the city's defining experiences.

Yerevan has no comparable bathing tradition for a visitor, only hotel spas and saunas, and the spa town of Jermuk is three hours away. Its restful side is simpler: long coffees on shaded terraces and evening walks through the ring of parks.