How to holiday with 32 friends and not kill each other

By PATRICIA NICOL, who’s about to hit the beach with 7 other families!

WhATeVeR the weather, be it scorchio or stairrods, we will be singing along to the same summer holiday playlist as we drive the last stretch. Because we always do.

There will be bleached heathland on one side and a beckoning sea, glimpsed between Scots pines, on the other. My friend will pull into the driveway of a fine old house — finer than any of us can claim on the other 51 weeks of the year — and her daughter and my sons will tumble out excitedly, scampering across lawns to seek out the other 17 children in our party (all aged between five and 13). I won’t see my boys again until dinner.

We’ll come across our adult pals — mostly friends going back 25 years — as we move through the house. If we arrive, as intended, by the midafternoon, there will be a supermarket delivery being sorted in the kitchen. If we get there late, there will already be a party under way on the terrace.

And I know all this because I am going on the same week’s holiday as I have been on for the past six years — with the same eight families. At maximum strength, we will be a party of 32.

Other friends recoil in horror when I wax lyrical about this week in the West Country. ‘ I honestly can’t think of anything worse,’ shudders one schoolgate dad. Others fret over the logistics: how do you feed everyone? Are there enough loos?

Certainly, ours is not a vacation for wallflowers. Nor am I going to pretend that holidaying with seven other families doesn’t involve negotiation. The first couple of years, with both my sons (and at least six other children) under five, I found it stressful as well as fun. Only fear of missing out kept me coming back.

Now, however, I am counting down the days. Through trial and occasional error, we have worked out how to make our week of mass communal living a success. here’s what we’ve learned . . .

PLAN MEALTIMES LIKE A GENERAL

The military is right that time spent in reconnaissance is never wasted. Also, about armies marching on their stomachs.

Weeks before we arrive, all the evening meals (kids and adults) have been planned and parent volunteers assigned.

Adults there for the whole week will cochef one meal, then probably help out with another. each chef decides how ambitious they want to be. The first year I spent hours prepping Mediterranean mezze and another I regretted making my own pastry.

But then I love cooking for others — not everyone is so enamoured. Places have been booked for the one night we’ll eat out en masse at a beach cafe.

Shopping has been done, too: cases of white, red, rosé and fizz, a halfkeg of ale and two supermarket deliveries, one on arrival, another three days later. Some activities have been booked: a group outing to a water park and a smaller ‘coasteering’ crew. Beyond that, people are — as they say in tour brochures — at leisure.

IT’S ABOUT LOCATION, LOCATION, LOCATION

WhAT surprises my husband most about this holiday is that we don’t all waste entire days debating what we might do. This is almost certainly because there isn’t that much to do beyond hanging out together.

Still, a group holiday, be it to a campsite or a castle, benefits enormously from an obvious mustering point such as a beach or pool. The house we rent is within ten minutes’ walk of a pretty beach with cafes and distractions.

Usually, after breakfast, individual families will mosey down. Or people just stay at the house, which is lovely, but not so lovely that you worry about undertens trashing it.

On at least one day, someone will propose a walk, which children will be coerced into going on, then grudgingly enjoy. And so, a week — in card games, chatter, swimming and play — passes. each family has at least their own bedroom and there’s space to congregate. There are also — and this is vital — plenty of bathrooms.

ETERNAL BATTLE FOR THE EN SUITE

STILL, all things are not equal when it comes to house design. One bedroom will have been built for the Master, others to house servants. This can be tricky.

The first year we drew straws. The next year, we tried differential pricing. The third year we reverted to equal pay and a ballot.

For year four, after consistently duff draws, I successfully lobbied for a Sovietrevolutionarystyle ‘moral ballot’ that sent those to whom much had been given to the bottom of the housing list and my family nearer the top.

Finally, for year five, we came up with a system whereby each family would only be balloted for rooms they hadn’t had previously. This has been reprised for year six.

One of the dads, who works in tech, claims there is an algorithm that could find everyone their ideal room. This is rubbish. everyone wants the same big corner en suite. I have it in my sights for 2019 or 2020.

CLEAN UP BEFORE THE CLEANERS

CATeRING for 32 people does not just happen. You need willing volunteers and schedules.

But we’re now grown up enough to trust that clearing up after meals will just happen and that the bathrooms have to remain in an acceptable state.

Cleaners come in as we are leaving and erase all trace of our boisterous party. But we always clean up a bit for them, so they are happy to have us back.

RATION SCREEN TIME — YOUNG AND OLD

TheRe are boys obsessed by online game Fortnite, a teen keen on Instagram and parents who get smartphone separation anxiety — it’s not just kids who benefit from holiday tech boundaries.

On years when we allowed a freeforall, some children would leap out of bed before 7am and be found glued to a sofa at 9am, unbreakfasted, unwashed and transfixed by whoever’s screen still had battery power.

Last year — after advance email discussions — we limited tech time to two 60minute sessions on two mornings, only after every keen participant had breakfasted, tidied up and dressed. Any child’s failure to comply deducted time from the group. Never have I known my children so biddable.

Unfortunately, my husband hadn’t read any of those emails. he arrived on the Friday evening and almost instantly surrendered all his devices to his beloved boys in exchange for cold beer. It caused absolute uproar.

This is a good illustration of how we try to accommodate different parenting styles by agreeing on stuff beforehand. This year, again, we plan on two tech sessions.

And, of course, there will be some TV and DVD watching, especially if the mercury plummets. Whether we can stop parents checking their phones constantly is probably a trickier negotiation point.

LET APPS HANDLE THE FINANCES

TeCh does help in marshalling our enterprise, though. Our WhatsApp group is abuzz with queries as to who is bringing rounders, handme down waterproof requests, water pistol debates and jellyfish intel. We follow weather apps obsessively.

Most importantly, we have found billsharing sites, such as Short Reckonings, or apps such as Splitwise, invaluable.

These not only let you track expenses, calculate who owes what to whom and mark when debts have been settled, but to introduce variables such as between a family of three and five or a teetotal parent.

DON’T ALWAYS GO WITH THE HERD

IT’S maddening to do everything as a herd. A good group holiday can allow you more time to yourself, with a book or to go for a run, because others will keep an eye on your kids. You can always take yourselves off as a family one day. The key is to relax.

STOP ROWS BEFORE THEY HAPPEN

OCCASIONALLY, it all becomes too intense. Sometimes a child feels left out, or bickering breaks out between siblings, even friends. But there has never, to my knowledge, been a proper flareup between the adults.

This is partly because we are very old friends, who have grown up together and are largely tolerant of one another’s foibles. But many points of conflict — who gets the best room, who is doing the lion’s share of the work — have been resolved in advance.

One husband did venture: amazed how long it’s lasted.’

And long may it continue — though we have to be realistic that trying it with teenagers may be a whole other experience.