Around this time of year, the lure of drinking cider and listening to music in a muddy, hippy-filled field is strong. In all honesty though, our last festival experience was not so great. Or relaxing. We slept in a two man tent with Milo, who was nearly two at the time (otherwise known as the ‘enjoys running full pelt into the distance and not coming back’ age), and ended up awake very early desperately hunting for coffee. We found closed food vans, litter pickers and a few late night stragglers instead. It was a pitiful scene.
So we were slightly apprehensive about repeating the experience – but optimistic that having a campervan and an older (although still pretty hyper) child would make for funner times.
