DOWNSHIFTING, my eye. Sealing down is a luxury only afforded to people with foolproof birth control, no school fees (or Irish dancing/Judo/Suzuki/creche bills) and a most unnatural desire to eat in every single blessed night of their existence. Oh, and savings. The rest of us have to make do with holidays. They're our only golden chance to give quality time more than a notional whirl and concentrate on what and who's really important.
For ordinary, over-extended people whose communal diaries make a dishwasher warranty look like exciting reading, group holidays make a lot of sense. They're all about catching up with friends you never normally have time to see and spending heaps of time bonding with the kinder. Maybe that's why everyone's taking them, from the MD of Conde Nast, Nicholas Coleridge, to the people down the road.
The idea is simple: hook a few villas together (or one gargantuan one), then sit back and let the younger generation entertain each other while you get on with the serious business of choosing which sun protection factor goes where. Child-care of some sort is advisable so that once the children are settled at night, company can he exclusively adult. A body of water, dependable weather and easy transfers are essential.
So far, so good. But as one would expect, with extra bodies come more potential problems. First off the bat, you're asking for trouble if you try and create too diverse a party.
Group Holiday Rule Number One is that people without children should never, ever share with families. They are blissfully unaware of the 24-hour demands of tots and nervy exchanges between sleep-deprived parents and should remain so until their own day of reckoning.
However you discipline your children - too much or too little - is guaranteed to appal them and make everyone skittish. They will rightly cut you little slack when you retire before midnight (Junior gets up at 5 a.m. local time) or shriek poolside safety code, and you will burn with jealousy when they surface for their first coffee at noon.
Next, pick easy-going types. As will become immediately apparent at the venue-choosing stage, everything takes longer to decide by committee. Forget trying to communicate by GSM (talk time should be reserved for emergency calls to the tour operator and paediatrician back home). You'd be as well off with Fisher Price walkie-talkies.
Likewise, forget conventional time-frames. Somewhere out there, there's a reliable mathematical equation for calculating the exponential law of departure. For each child under six, add three minutes for each mother trying to pack a nappy bag and making sure everyone has gone to the loo, add four for each father who can't find his sunglasses/keys/map, add five. Queen bees and head honchos seldom take to the anarchy and having to be polite about it . . . even if it actually does them a power of good.
On villa holidays, the thorniest area is usually the bedroom (but not for the usual reasons). Most problems stem from the fact that there will always be at least one bedroom/house that's nicer than the rest and at least one that's downright dodgy, no matter how posh the brochure. Deciding who goes into which sagging twin berth will reveal raw Machiavellian instincts and may ultimately require the special skills of a career diplomat to resolve, not to mention mind-altering substances to forget. Have the villa company send floor plans before finalising booking to avoid total chaos or opt for the tried and true short-straw assignment method. The truly decent long straws will offer to play musical rooms at midpoint.
If accommodation proves an absolute disaster, everyone must agree on one spokesperson to liaise with reps, and must put their absolute faith in them. When everyone in our party finally voiced their misgivings about the villas we had rented half way through our Turkish trip, the list of grievances ran to 23 points. ranging from major doubts about pool hygiene to the naffness of the decor. Our fearless leader presented the relevant ones expertly to the local rep, stuck to her guns and within 24 hours we were all transferred to a swanky resort.
If all or some of us had made ranting independent calls, you can bet we would have spent the remainder of the holiday still surrounded by swarms of mosquitoes (the window screens were all torn) and broken 1005. That is. if we weren't in the hospital nursing an exotic infection from the pool or a broken limb (said pool had a ten-foot, unfenced drop on two sides).
Child-care creates its fair share of difficult situations. If some families bring help and others don't, nannies may feel the strain, and you can bet that if they do, parents will too. Likewise, the haves may feel put upon, the have-nots may feel relatively overburdened. If more than one helper is on the scene, it is essential for employers to co-ordinate their time off, pay and responsibilities. If minders never compared notes before, you can bet they will on the flight or during those extended lifeguarding sessions by the pool. Be prepared. Be fair.
Predictably, finances can also cause problems. Someone buys a kilo of truffles and expects everyone to chip in, the people with 10 children never contribute a penny for them on the grounds that they only eat crisps, a certain person never quite makes it to the bureau de change and is constantly short.
RECKONING can be tough - we are still owed a whack of money from a villa experience a decade ago, but most often things work out best if accounting is loose and unfussy. You may be down a few quid but the whole exercise is about making the most of your time life's too short to nit-pick over who bought the last calamari.
Besides, there is one undeniable advantage to big numbers where money is concerned the group discount. On our trip, five couples cornered the local market in kilim cushions, chalking up 54 in a night, which sent prices plummeting to under seven pounds a pop.
The trickiest area of all to get right is the most nebulous. Let's call it the holiday ethos. Many a group immediately cleaves into polar opposite factions: the Doers and the Sitters, the Partiers and the Sleepers, the Shoppers and the Sightseers. That's fine. As long as the subgroups respect one another and aren't threatened or pressurised by alternative agendas. Even though you re with a gang you should be able to have romantic interludes or shamelessly Kodak moments en famille. Everyone must be able to do what they please with impunity. It's a holiday... remember?
So, the key to averting aggro, big and small, all boils down to the dramatis personae. The bad news is that you won't know whether or not you've assembled a well-adjusted, mature and flexible travelling party until you're up close and personal. Then it's too late. The good news is all the little glitches evaporate from the collective memory surprisingly fast.