For any of you contemplating the fashionable Big Family Holiday (and by 'Big', I mean a holiday where grannies, sister-in-laws, nieces and nephews all huddle around some foreign plastic table) may I offer a few hard-won survival tips? And I don’t use the word “survival” lightly either, because there will be one among the group that will fall ill – there always is – and last year it was my husband, who lay in bed with a temperature of 104 and acute tonsillitis for two days while we were all quaffing wine and accusing him of trying to skive off the washing up. Poor man nearly pegged it. Which brings me neatly to tip number one...

Bring the Best First Aid Kit You Have

Because one of the family, hopefully not you, will definitely fall ill, expand your Boots First Aid Kit to include useful things such as a thermometer, ear drops, waterproof plasters, tweezers for splinters, hardcore painkillers, anti-histamine tablets, ice packs and triangle bandages. There is something about the convergence of an extended family that always results in injury or illness. It doesn’t seem to happen on other holidays, but it will happen on this one.

I think it’s related to the stress of being thrown together as a big happy family that usually makes at least one of you crack. If it is an outsider who has married into Cosa Nostra, like my poor husband last year, it is probably the pressure of being chucked into a family culture where Golf is a religion among the men. If it’s among the core family, it’s usually caused by old rivalries in old bones, ensuring sprains on the tennis court. Either way it is a cry for help, and you may as well be prepared to avoid scouring French pharmacists on a Sunday for specialist ear-infection drops.

Save The Family Scapegoat

Every extended family holiday will choose one, and it is not a pleasant role to fill. It can never be predicted who will wear the crown of thorns in what year, but once the victim is chosen, do whatever you can to stick up for them. Usually the poor scapegoat has some unwitting weakness or annoying habit that qualifies them for the role, and then becomes a dumping ground for the rest of the family’s dark side.

Sometimes, it is a child – as in the case of my naughty five-year-old Michael last year - who isn’t really able to fight back. As everything from lost keys to missing croissants was blamed on my darling son, he seemed to turn into this terror tot before my eyes, no doubt fulfilling his “family script” as Psychologist Oliver James would have it. It took a big showdown with Grandpa, the worst offender, to get him reinstated as a human being, with some harsh words said in his defence. I told Grandpa that Michael would not be crying at his funeral unless he started to be nicer to him. Amazingly, it worked.

The Great Generational Culture Clash

Unless you are blessed with Grannies from Tony Parsons’ novels, there will be issues over modern parenting. Fortunately, extreme measures like smacking are now illegal, which speeds up that debate with grandparents, but children who get down from the table without asking, run around before pudding, refuse to try new foods or just make a lot of noise, rarely escape without comment.

It is therefore worth boosting your parental confidence before you go; I find a mantra such as “benign neglect was never good parenting Mum and Dad, benign neglect was never good parenting Mum and Dad” usually does the trick. It’s not true that we were "seen and not heard" as small children, we were neither seen nor heard – not an option for kids in today’s world. Breathe in "Let", breathe out "go" is the only advice I can offer. Septuagenarians will not change their views.

Expect the children to behave better than the grown-ups

On every Big Family Holiday, the young cousins have got on famously, loved each other in spite of age differences, played together beautifully, and generally showed up how poorly the rest of us behave after the age of 16. Among the grown-ups, as well as the generational culture clashes, there are the undercurrents of feeling over different parenting styles. The laid-back, let-the-kids-run-amok-till-midnight approach is generally disapproved of by the sister-in-law who baths and beds hers by 8pm, only to have them leaning out of the window waving wistfully to the other cousins.

Food is a touch paper best left untouched; just don’t bring up any weirdness. If there is a search for organic beans to puree, so be it, or if your teenage niece is eating a lot of chocolate, hold your tongue (lest you are told crossly by her Mum, as one friend was, that she may be borderline anorexic). The aim of the game is minimum drama, and, above all, avoiding the inevitable Row on the Last Night.

The Row on the Last Night

This must be diverted at all costs because it can be terminal for some relationships. Even if you have defended the holiday scapegoat, played down your superior parenting approach, refused to comment on anybody’s weird eating habits, agreed with the grandparents on how atrociously behaved your children are (“It must be in the DNA, Grandpa”) and survived a horrible illness, there is still the final evening to get through.

This is the last chance for the family to dump any grievances that have been smouldering awway since you were born. And that is the point. Whatever the political debate at the table raging over the second bottle of wine, it has nothing to do with the real issue festering beneath. You may be talking about David and Ed Miliband in the Cabinet, but the real issue will be that your Dad always thought your brother was cleverer than you. Discussion on David Cameron will morph into your hated past at boarding school.

In fact the only way to ensure that the lively debate does not spill over into nastiness is to confiscate the wine (impossible) or, best of all, go to bed early. Last-night family debates are never going to end in anything other than slightly drunken recriminations, so lay down your weapons and slip under the sheets. Then, finally, you can hug your partner and be thankful that they are not blood related.

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