It wasn't until the check-in at Stansted airport that it really sank in. Here we were, two adults, two children, loads of luggage, plenty of suncream and off for a family package holiday.

Only a few years ago we would have cringed at the thought. How we used to look down our noses, while checking in for Brazil, China, Uganda or wherever, at all those easy-to-please tourists off to some boring suntrap with no black market, no dangerous insects, no Aussie backpackers to sneer at, no language barrier, no prospect of eating crocodile tail, ox tendon or deep-fried locusts.

But then the children arrived, and the black market is on hold for a few years. Here we were, a Thomson Superfamily off to a glorified holiday camp in Menorca populated entirely (except for the workers) by Brits, most of whom had a football shirt (dad) and a tattoo (mum and dad) to parade at the poolside. And, despite everything, we loved it.

Despite, particularly, the first day. Our first meal, from the snack menu at the on-site restaurant, was so bad we didn't bother with the main menu once during our 10-day stay. The spaghetti napolitana for the children was spaghetti in tomato soup. They even rejected the tomato sauce, which tasted like strawberry jam. And I had a piece of chicken that smelled like a dustbin. But it was a dustbin served courteously, and when I complained the waiter gave us all a nice smile.

Then it was so cold at night we had to hunt for extra blankets. Up at reception the next morning, a Welsh granny was begging for a heater. They didn't have any, but somehow, later, they rustled up a few for the other elderly complainants. More good service with a smile - and they must have had a word about the weather, too, because within a day it was perfect and stayed that way.

There were gripes about the apartments, too. The kitchen was too small, we couldn't fathom how to work the grill or the oven. The beds were too narrow, too short and too sweaty (plastic covers for bed-wetters were the problem). The shower didn't work, until a nice man came and fixed it, and the grannies didn't have enough hot water.

You could buy only homogenised or UHT milk, so you couldn't have a 'real' cup of tea, and thank goodness we had brought our own Marmite, or Victor, aged four, would have wasted away. But that's quite enough complaining. It can't have been that bad, because we would all go back.

The swimming pool, where seven-year-old Bonnie spent most of her holiday, was within 25 yards of our front patio. Around the corner was a climbing frame with slides, the most popular spot for Victor. Yards beyond was the bar, which served excellent espresso to compensate for the tea crisis, and the launderette.

One of the main reasons for being happy with the holiday was the Thomson reps, who not only kept the grannies happy but gave you as much of their time as you needed to work out what to do and when. They were British and excelled at customer relations. That took some getting used to.

The site - dozens of apartments, four pools, play areas, restaurant with small stage, bar, play room and children's club - was not too big, and every single holidaymaker was a child, parent or grandparent. And although it may have been because we went during term time, there were no teenagers - except for the younger reps.

Everything was aimed at the kids, or looking after them while the grown-ups went out to play - or rather to sunbathe. Amazingly, in all our 10 days there wasn't one argument: child vs child, child vs parent or parent vs parent. That would never happen at home, and that's what made it a holiday.

On three or four of the days we did what the parents wanted to do - a Thomson coach trip, a drive in the hire car to Mahon at the other end of Menorca, and a wander around the nearby town, Ciutadella - and, to come clean, dad and Victor sneaked out to watch the big match on Sunday night, Atletic Ciutadella vs Montuiri in the Spanish third division. The rest of the time we lounged around and did as we were told by Bonnie and Victor.

This might have meant swimming, playing football, or perhaps a five-minute walk to the bus stop for a trip around the resort on a mini train. Then there was a day at the Aqua Park over the road - a great selection of water-splash slides, the best of them on inflatables - and visits to the many children's play areas, which featured the latest in bouncy-castle design, including domes, giant whales and rabbits that gobbled up the children and sent them down a slide.

The children's club was one of the great attractions of the Superfamily package. There were Activ clubs for three age groups: 3-5, 6-8 and 9-12. Bonnie went every day for a couple of hours in the afternoon, and most evenings to the mini-disco.

The best day was the coach trip to the 'secret garden'. We couldn't really work out what it was beforehand, but our decision to give it a go was the best we made. It was a remarkable change of scenery, down a steep ravine to a private orchard, the Hort des Barranco, which doubled up as a cultural heritage centre. Oranges, kumquats and pears were all ripe for picking, there was a freshwater stream, donkey rides, hand-operated fairground rides for the children, and the bilingual guides took them on a treasure hunt around the grounds. The adults were treated to an outdoor feast of barbecued meat and sausages, local cheeses, tomatoes, fruit and as much home-made lemonade or red wine as you could drink. If you're off to Menorca, you must visit.

Another must-see is Macarella beach, one of the best of many beautiful beaches on a spectacularly pleasant island. The best of this day came on the way home, however. On the way to the beach, along a bumpy road and bumpier dirt track, we had seen several impressive pigs, and kept some of our picnic to feed them on our return. When we did, we found a litter of a dozen piglets only a few days old, and it was feeding time. The farmer called Victor and Bonnie into the field and caught a piglet for them to stroke. It was one of the sights of the holiday, and we didn't have bacon for breakfast the next day.

Fact file

Thomson Superfamily holidays can be booked on 0870 550 2555, www.thomson-holidays.com

Two weeks' self-catering for a family of four in the Talayot apartments in Menorca costs £1,916 in August. One week in September costs £1,056. The holidays feature:

• Free children's clubs for ages 3-12. Parents are provided with pagers so they can keep in touch.

• Crèche at £5 for two hours.

• Baby equipment including cots, strollers, highchairs for a small charge.