The Algarve is Portugal's reward for getting everyone to the coast: a long ribbon of golden cliffs and shallow, forgiving water where the surf rarely frightens a toddler. Praia da Marinha gets the postcards for its sculpted rock arches, but the family currency here is space, the kind Meia Praia hands out by the mile in Lagos while parents keep a stretch of sand within easy sightline. The real Algarve trick is how little you have to choose between: a morning kayak into the Benagil sea cave, an afternoon watching dolphins arc off the bow, then a jeep rattling through orange groves inland, all bookable before lunch and all genuinely interesting to a nine-year-old and a forty-year-old at once.

When the beach has done its work, the towns pick up the slack. Lagos layers a working marina and cobbled lanes over its history, Tavira trades the crowds for a medieval castle and tiled streets, and Albufeira keeps the energy high for anyone traveling with teenagers. Eating is its own easy win, grilled fish and piri-piri chicken for the adults, pastéis de nata to settle any argument with the kids. The hotels match the pace: beach resorts with kids' clubs and pools a few steps from the sand, private villas for families who want their own kitchen and a gate, and all-inclusive resorts for the weeks when nobody wants to think about logistics at all. It is the rare coast that works as hard for a long weekend as it does for a fortnight.