Sleeping Rough: Stealth Camping & Frosty Mornings

Nomadic Tales

A big part of the thrill of wild camping is the daily adventure of finding a new place to sleep. The more unusual the spot, the better. That said, I don’t push it to the extreme because I do appreciate a good night’s rest. For example, while the idea of stealth camping inside a roundabout sounds fun in theory, but the prospect of a sleepless night due to traffic noise quickly puts me off. That said, I was seriously tempted once when I stumbled upon an abandoned structure right in the middle of a roundabout. It looked like a symbolic gate to a large property near a hospital. I gave up because thick overgrown bushes made it impractical.

One of my oddest camping experiences was on the terrace of a defunct restaurant in Montenegro, overlooking Liqeni i Shasit lake. What made it especially awkward was the lively new Shasi restaurant operating just below the terrace. The parking lot was packed with cars, and the constant murmur of diners painted a vivid picture of a busy evening. Little did they know, a tent was pitched just 10 meters above them. It wasn’t exactly the stealth camping I had in mind, but as I neared the border with few other options left, I had to take the opportunity. Crossing a border often feels like hitting a reset button, you have to start from scratch figuring out good camping spots, so I try to avoid doing it late in the day.

I had initially considered sleeping inside the abandoned restaurant, but the November sun wasn’t warming it up much, and the cold ceramic floor tiles were like a giant heatsink. So, I set up my tent on the concrete terrace instead, and I mean properly pitched it. The cracks in the concrete, filled with dirt and even supporting a bit of plant life, were just enough to anchor three tent pegs. Thanks to the terrace’s elevation, my tent stayed hidden from the restaurant below. Once the night set and the activity died down, the place fell silent, and I ended up having a peaceful night and a good rest.

Another memorable stealth camp took place in rural Serbia, not far from a loud party that was going on behind a line of trees. In Milićevci, there’s a large administrative building with two adjacent outbuildings that form an L-shaped perimeter. Along the longer side, about 50 meters, which appeared to be used as a warehouse, there was an open gallery. A powerful floodlight on the wall near the gallery created a sharp contrast, casting deep shadows where I slept. I didn’t bother pitching my tent this time; I just unrolled my mat and slept under the open sky, taking advantage of the warm and dry late-June weather. The access road that ran alongside the gallery only served two properties, so there was virtually no traffic. Even if someone had driven by, the bright light would have blinded them to the dark corner where I was tucked away.

Montenegro, Nov 2022

Unforgettable Sights & Hidden Gems

Kotor – The Place Where the Streets Have No Name

This title isn’t just a catchy phrase, it’s quite literal. The old town of Kotor genuinely has no street names at all. Instead, the labyrinth of narrow alleys and winding passageways is navigated solely by door numbers, adding to the town’s mysterious and timeless atmosphere.

Kotor is also affectionately known as "the city of cats," a name that fits perfectly. The town is a paradise for cat lovers, with countless cats lounging around in sun-drenched corners or casually strolling the cobbled streets. These cats are well cared for by the locals, who feed and look after them, making them a beloved part of the town’s identity.

Beyond its whiskered residents, Kotor enchants visitors with its medieval charm. The fortified old town, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, is nestled within the stunning Bay of Kotor, a fjord-like bay carved into Montenegro’s dramatic coastline. Surrounded by steep, towering mountains, the bay’s calm, mirror-like waters create a breathtaking setting. As you wander through Kotor’s ancient walls, every corner seems to whisper stories from centuries past, blending natural beauty with a deep sense of history.

Roadside Hacks

The tent I had in the Balkans and Italy, a trip that lasted until mid December, had little mesh and held well on cold nights. However, the tent I used the next year had far too much mesh to be practical on cold nights, a lesson I learned the hard way during my eight-month journey. While crossing the Castilian plateau in northern Spain, unusually cold weather set in. Coastal winds and persistent overcast skies in May drove nighttime temperatures down to near freezing. Mornings were especially harsh; more than once, I had to scrape frost off the outer flysheet.

The tent itself is a dome shape with a rectangular floor plan, and the short-end walls are mostly mesh, which let in a biting chill. I discovered that draping my rain poncho over one of these mesh panels helped trap some warmth inside. Later, I took it a step further. I bought fabric, cut it to size, and added mounting holes in just the right spots to secure it properly. This simple modification made a world of difference, effectively extending the usable range of my tent to several degrees colder while still allowing for excellent ventilation during warmer summer nights.