I'm a White Van Woman. I drove about Portugal in a white Ford Transit, adopting the character to match the motor. I swaggered up into the high seat, like mounting a mighty beast, and practised my Portuguese expletives, hogging the right side of the road. In a van, you look down on absolutely everyone.

I'd never driven a van before, but I'm a convert to seeing my elongated image in the huge wing mirrors. The view over the olive groves of the Alentejo plains was spectacular through our broad, high windscreen. The most quarrelsome child can be sat far back in the third row, where the whirr of the rear seat air-conditioning deafens every "Are we there yet?"

I was also determined not to hear the babies' plaintive cries when their activity centres crashed to the floor. I velcro-ed the bottom of their toys and book covers to trays so they didn't fall off each time I tackled a bend. (Holiday Autos' Freedom Behind the Wheel guide, available online at holidayautos.co.uk, has tips on hassle-free car travel with children.)

A van is not really a car; tell them it's a truck, and the mere idea will keep any child amused for a few moments at least. We pretended to be a band on our European tour. We couldn't have done that in a Galaxy.

The van didn't only give us street cred but saved us cash. Although it seated nine comfortably, it cost considerably less to hire than a seven-seater people carrier. It also used diesel which in Portugal, as other European countries, is about 30% cheaper than unleaded.

I became so attached to my white van that I'm considering buying one as the family car at home. White Van Man watch out. Soon the British roads may no longer be yours.

If you have any experiences of travelling with kids, email: deabirkett@cs.com