Zadar or Split?

Both cities let you swim without leaving town, mostly from pebble and concrete platforms that fill up in July and August. The real difference is where the sand is. Split has it in town at Bačvice, the shallow bay where locals play picigin, and has pine-shaded coves around Marjan for quieter swims.

In Zadar you swim off the promenade on the western edge of the peninsula or at Kolovare and Borik. The sand is a short trip away, on Nin's long shallow beaches or at Sakarun on Dugi Otok. Split's longer beaches are a ferry or catamaran ride away on Brač and Hvar.

Both serve the same Dalmatian coastal cooking of grilled fish, black risotto and dishes baked under the peka, but you eat better in Split. It has family konobas in Varoš, pašticada with gnocchi, fish and green markets by the palace walls, and Plavac Mali and Pošip on the wine lists.

In Zadar the menus repeat from one peninsula restaurant to the next. What it adds is local: Pag cheese and pršut to start, and Maraschino, the cherry liqueur once distilled here for European courts. Neither offers much international cooking.

Split is the stronger choice for culture. Diocletian's Palace is not a ruin but a Roman complex that people still live in. Medieval houses fill its walls, the Cathedral of St Domnius stands in the emperor's mausoleum, and the vaulted substructures show the original plan. Around it lie Venetian streets and Narodni Trg, and the Meštrović Gallery on Marjan is a fine museum of the sculptor's work.

Zadar's history is spread more thinly across its small walled peninsula, with the open Roman forum, the round ninth-century Church of St Donatus and the Venetian Land Gate. Its museums are small, and the Museum of Ancient Glass is the best of them, but nothing there matches the palace. What Zadar adds is a modern waterfront, where the Sea Organ and the Greeting to the Sun have no equivalent in Split.

Split has the bigger night out. In summer, bars fill the palace alleys and stairways until late, and the beach bars and clubs around Bačvice keep going into the early hours.

Zadar's nights are gentler. They begin at sunset by the Sea Organ and move on to café-bars on Kalelarga and terraces on the walls, and real clubbing means the trip to Zrće on Pag, about an hour away. Both go quiet from October to May.

Both sit between limestone mountains and a sea full of islands, and Krka's waterfalls are about an hour from either. Zadar's surroundings are the stronger draw: Paklenica's gorges for hiking and climbing, boat trips to the stark Kornati and Telašćica, Plitvice within a long day, and the Vrana lake reserve for birdwatchers.

In Split the outdoors start closer to the door. Marjan's trails are a walk from the palace, and further out there are ridge hikes on Mosor and Kozjak, Biokovo above Makarska and rafting in the Cetina canyon at Omiš.

Split is the easier base for day trips. Trogir is about half an hour away and Šibenik about an hour. Salona and Klis Fortress are on the doorstep, and ferries from the harbour go to Hvar, Brač and Vis.

From Zadar, Šibenik and the tiny royal town of Nin make good outings, and Pag and the islands of Ugljan, Pašman and Silba are within reach. Split and Trogir mean a long day on the motorway, and for most trips a car or an organised excursion helps.

Neither city has a zoo, aquarium or theme park, so family days in both are mostly spent at the sea. Split has Bačvice for paddling and Marjan for shade and space to run, though the palace streets are full of steps.

Zadar's old town is flat, which is easier with a pushchair, and the waterfront suits scooters. The Sea Organ and the lit tiles of the Greeting to the Sun charm most children, and Nin's sandy shallows are the best beach for small ones.

Split is easier both to get around and to leave. The ferry port, bus station and railway station sit together at the harbour, and the palace, Varoš, the markets, Bačvice and Marjan are all within walking distance. Local buses reach Solin and Trogir.

Zadar's peninsula is flat and quick to cross, and the island ferries leave from its edge, but the buses go little further than the suburbs. For Paklenica, Nin or Šibenik, a hire car or an organised excursion is the practical answer.

Neither city is worth visiting for shopping, and both keep the fashion chains in the old town and the malls on the edge. Split's palace lanes lean towards souvenirs, lavender and Croatian ties, and the Pazar market is the best place to browse. Zadar's marble Kalelarga has jewellers and galleries, and its things to take home are more distinctive: Maraschino, Pag cheese and Pag lace.

In high summer Split is the more expensive place to stay. Rooms in and around the palace then cost close to what a large Western European city charges, and on the Riva fish is priced by weight, so a seafood dinner by the water is the quickest way to overspend. Island ferries for a whole family also add up over a week.

In the same months, Zadar's private apartments cost less, and its konobas are fair once you leave the main old town streets. Zadar's extra costs come from the countryside rather than the town. Entry to Paklenica or Krka and a boat day out to the Kornati soon add up. In both cities bakeries, markets and local buses keep everyday spending low, and outside July and August prices fall a long way, most of all in Split in winter.

Split has more on stage. The Croatian National Theatre, a 19th-century house beside the palace, stages opera and ballet through the season, and the Split Summer Festival puts opera in the Peristyle.

Zadar offers less, but its highlight is memorable: the Musical Evenings in St Donatus bring early and chamber music to the ninth-century church each summer. Its small theatre plays in Croatian. You can hear klapa singing in both cities, and both calendars thin out after summer.

Neither city has a spa tradition, so in both you rely on hotel spas, in the resorts east of Split's centre or at Borik in Zadar. Zadar adds the mineral mud of Nin's shallow lagoon and an evening ritual of watching the sunset from the Sea Organ steps.

Split has fjaka, its unhurried local idleness, best seen in the long coffees on the Riva. Its old town stays loud late into summer nights, though, and real rest there means the pine woods of Marjan or a trip to an island.