Having said that tents are for teenagers, and I'd rather vote Tory than use a chemical toilet, Mr & Mrs That's Not My Age are off to Latitude festival this morning. Two last-minute tickets have come our way and once I've finished on the blog and packed my bag, we'll be heading to the train station with our brand new tent and sleeping bags. Sadly, that's not my tent. To save time, I opted for one of those practical, oh-so-easy to erect (we'll soon see about that) pop-up dome thingies and not this gorgeous Zandra Rhodes teepee from Milletts. Our sleeping bags can be zipped together to create a double cocoon-style arrangement, so I'm expecting a romantic night under the canvas. Mr That's Not My Age is not so sure. He's never been camping in his life and is nervously pacing up and down the hallway as I type. I just hope he doesn't mind being woken up in the middle of the night to accompany me to the Portaloo, and has taken note of my grown-up guide to gigs.