'There's nothing so cool as kids in the pool," chimed my eight-year-old. In her all-in-one sunsuit, with high collar and short legs and arms, she looks like a shrunk surfboarder. For us boring old parents, there are more practical considerations. The scorching sun, for example. Which is why the five-month-old twins will also be swimming in their Australian-made suits (available from www.funsunsuits.co.uk) in the Algarve, with a waterproof legionnaire hat on top.

Modelling my motherhood on Cherie's, whose little Leo invited his swimming-club mates to his first birthday, I've prepared the twins with sessions at the local leisure centre, taking them separately as one adult can't cope with both. But I'm packing two inflatable swim seats (available from Floaties at www.styrox.co.uk), so I can plonk them in their own supported rubber rings and lay back and look up at the sun myself. (Floaties even produce a free "Help your child learn to swim" leaflet suggesting songs for the aqua-environment, adapting old favourites such as "Ring a ring o'roses . . . we all blow bubbles". Sorry, but I haven't been able to belt that one out in the local pool yet.)

Since my first child, there's been a revolution in swimming etiquette. I just put her in a pair of pants and hoped. Now - wary of what is charmingly known as "ploppies" - few pools let a child in without a watertight guarantee. You can buy disposable water nappies, but it's cheaper (and lighter on the luggage) to use one of the many brands of rinseable aquanappies, some cunningly disguised behind bikini bottoms or Bermuda shorts.

The Slovakian nanny approves (a rare event, as she generally regards English parenting as far too lax). In Slovakia, she says, they put a special chemical in the pool so if you pee a purple stream emerges and the lifeguard hauls you out, utterly humiliated. I hope they don't do that in Portugal.

If you have any experiences of travelling with kids that you would like to share, e-mail: deabirkett@cs.com