Where It All Began: My Love Affair With Bivis

A bivi, on the top of a grassy hill, with the blue, purple and orange sky of dawn above.

This site has no affiliate links or sponsorships – I don’t get paid or make money from any of the links here. Every bit of content is created and funded by me alone, with the goal of providing an honest and helpful resource for the camping community.

Why Bivvis Get Reactions –  and Why I Like Them

I often get complimented on my bravery, along with plenty of inquisitive comments about sleeping in a coffin. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, this refers to my love of bivis and why I enjoy camping in them.

A bivi bag, in grass on top of a hill and overlooking to sea and the purple dusk sky
Bivi camping on the cliff tops of the Jurassic Coast in Dorset

I know bivis –  and small tents, which I’ll include here – aren’t everyone’s cup of tea. So I’d like to explain why they work so well for me.

I’d like to begin by saying, I don’t always camp in a bivi. There are times when a bivi wouldn’t be appropriate, or when I simply want to mix things up and use a different shelter. That said, I could quite happily cope with longer journeys using a bivi – and in the past, I have.

Learning to Use Bivis Early

I’m in my 50s now, and my love of bivvies goes back to my teens. Back then, a couple of friends and I went on a two-month cycling trip through northern Spain into south-west France, crossing the Pyrenees and heading down to the southern coast of  France.

One of my mates was in the army at the time and supplied us all with bivis. They were simple drawstring bivis and certainly not luxurious. We slept in them through hot southern European nights, and had to pull  the drawstring tight to keep the mosquitoes out. They were hot and very uncomfortable. After that trip, a friend and I promised ourselves that one day we’d own a Dutch army hooped bivi.

The Dutch Hooped Bivi: Years of Use

I’m not sure if my friend kept that promise, but I did. After moving back to the UK in 2010, I started camping again and bought a large Dutch army hooped bivi, which I used for many years.

A Dutch hooped bivi camp, on a narrow path, surrounded by ferns in the New Forest
Bivi camping in the New Forest
a bivi set up on the beach, surrounded by beach grass, and with the dark blue, and orange sky of dawn on the horizon
A bivi set up on Knoll beach, with the dark blue, and orange sky of dawn on the horizon

I really loved that piece of kit and used it on every camp I went on. It wasn’t perfect and does have a few drawbacks though. It’s heavy at around 1.7 kg (3.7 lbs), and in winter the thick Gore-Tex sits directly on you and your sleeping bag, allowing the cold to penetrate.

Freezing temperatures in the New Forest Hampshire
Freezing temperatures in the New Forest Hampshire

Having said that, there are far more positives than negatives.

What I Like About Bivi Camping

I find bivis fun and fuss-free, and they suit me because they’re no-nonsense and not flashy. They come second only to cowboy camping and tarp camping when it comes to no-frills shelters and a simple way to spend a night outdoors.

Dutch hooped bivi, open and stuffed with a sleeping bag, on the top of a hill in long grass, and over looking a castle ruins on top of a hill and next to a village.
On the top of a hill in long grass, and over looking a castle ruins of Corfe Castle in Dorset

I find bivis are large enough for me, with enough room to be comfortable and stash my gear. Best of all are their stealth qualities – low profile and they are able to fit into places a tent never could.

A bivi set up on a narrow footpath on Bat’s Head on Dorset’s Jurassic Coast

Why I Upgraded to the Nortent Skjul

In early 2025, I decided it was time for an upgrade. I’m getting older, and while I still love the Dutch hooped bivi, it can be rough at times.

The Nortent Skjul set up in a moss lined gully in the forest
A plantation forest camp with the Nortent Skjul

After having a good look around and doing plenty of research, I decided to spend more money than I ever had before on a shelter. I settled on the Nortent Skjul for a few reasons: it’s one of the lighter options on the market, it sits at the higher end of pricing without being the most expensive, has side access, and is double-hooped, with a hoop at each end to keep the fabric off you as you sleep. But the feature that sealed it for me was the large open-top bug net.

Living With the Skjul

I absolutely love this about the Skjul. The bug net covers roughly a third of the bivy’s length. The Dutch hooped bivi does have a bug net, but nothing like this.

The Nortent Skjul, set up in grass, with the top unzipped and the bug net exposed
The Nortent Skjul with top unzipped and its bug net exposed

Lying there on a summer night, looking up at the sky and out across the landscape, is inncredible, while being protected from the biting beasties is great.

Looking up from the inside of the Nortent Skjul, with a mosquito resting on the bug net

I’ve used this bivi a lot since buying it, sleeping in a variety of locations and environments – from hilltops and coastal cliffs to forests and woodlands.

Accepting the Compromises

I’ve found something that suits me. I know compromises have to be made with owning and using a bivi, but they are minor compared to the enjoyment and the many positives they bring.

A British army basha set up over a bivi bag on a patch of sand surrounded by ferns
A British army basha set up over a bivi bag

Having used bivis for so many years, I’m not affected by the fact that I can’t sit up in it. If I want to use a bivi and sit up, , I’ll bring a tarp. You don’t miss something you’ve never had.

Why Bivis Still Suit My Camping Lifestyle

They suit my approach to enjoying the great outdoors. They are  simple, quiet and get the job done. Not that I have anything against brightly coloured tents – if I were on an expedition or camping on a secluded mountain without fear of being disturbed, I’d opt for the option of a roomy two-person tent.

Another bivvy setup, on a narrow fern lined path, on top of Golden Cap in Dorset

But if you follow my camping, you’ll know I tend to pick small woodlands or exposed hilltops where standing out is a real risk. Where I live doesn’t have the luxury of high mountains or endless empty wilderness.

A Dutch hooped bivvi, set up on the pebbled coast next to a patch of short grass and the water.
The bivvi set up, tucked away on a the pebbles of Chesil Beach Dorset

So I’ll continue to enjoy my nights out in small patches of countryside, sleeping stealthily in a bivi that can squeeze into places other shelters can’t.

A Gentle Encouragement 

If you’ve ever been curious about bivi camping but put off by how it looks or sounds, I’d say this: it’s not about toughness or roughing it. It’s simply another way of spending a night outdoors. I understand it won’t work for some people. But for others, especially those who want to keep it simple and blend quietly into the landscape, it might be worth trying at least once. Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. And you never know – you may actually enjoy it.

If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to contact me via social media or the contact form which can be found on the contact page.

Your feedback is important. Let me know if you enjoyed the blog – and even if you didn’t, I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Thanks for taking the time to read the article.

Many thanks

Dan

#bivicamping #bivvi #dutchhoopedbivi #nortentbivi #wildcamping #swcoastpath #beachcamping #campinggear #minimalistcamping #tarpcamping #nortentskjul #chesilbeach #goldencap #dorset #studland #knollbeach #wytchfarm #berkshire #moorcorpsenaturereserve #ringwoodforest #hampshire #batshead #jurassiccoast #swcoastpath #corfecastle #hampshire #newforest #foundationrock #bivvy #bivi

Related Articles

Responses