How to survive a festival with kids

My son and daughter have spent their entire young lives going to the Green Man festival. This friendly, midsized affair, which takes place in a verdant misty valley in the Brecon Beacons, Wales, has seen them grow from being cheerful little toddlers; to naughty, spirited kids; to truculent uncommunicative teenagers; to charming young adults. The festival has grown, added a few stages, and seen all kinds of bands come and go, while remaining essentially the same unpretentious, real ale-sodden place it has always been. My children, meanwhile, have transformed beyond all recognition, something I failed to sufficiently take note of in 2015 when our 15-year-old son grew to 6ft 4in in the space of a summer and woke up in the family tent with his