Since leaving the UK in 2007, I have lived as a homeless traveller for more than a decade. I started with a 70‑liter backpack, but over the years I have reduced everything to a 30‑liter pack. Experience has shown that around 30 liters is enough for long-term travel — you carry everything with you, so minimalism becomes a survival skill.
Here is a list of the items I always carry with me:
The most important things have always been a sleeping bag and a durable backpack. I usually buy both at least once a year with a combined budget of around 100 euros. Yes, you can sometimes get a sleeping bag for free from charities or the Red Cross — I’ve had that experience twice — but the quality varies a lot.
Sleeping Bag: The Most Important Item for a Homeless Hitchhiker
Once I used a children’s summer sleeping bag, and obviously I didn’t fit properly inside it. Another time I had the cheapest possible bag, and my legs were always cold during winter nights.
Even though temperatures rarely drop far below freezing where I travel, a poor-quality sleeping bag makes nights miserable.
For two years I carried huge sleeping bags weighing around 2 kg — bigger than my backpack. They were warm, yes, but once they got wet, they took forever to dry. And you don’t notice rain while sleeping. By the time you wake up, the outer layer is soaked, and you have to deal with a completely wet sleeping bag for the rest of the day.
It was also hard to get out of such a warm cocoon on cold mornings.
In the end, normal-sized sleeping bags (around 1.6 kg) rated for 0°C have been the most practical for me. You can buy professional mountaineering bags for hundreds of euros, but I’m satisfied with something in the 10‑euro range. They’re usually made in China, so the stitching starts to fray after a year — which is fine, because I prefer to replace the bag annually anyway.
Backpack
My current backpack is a 40‑liter model I once bought from Decathlon in France for 40 euros. It has been with me for years, used every single day, and it has held up surprisingly well. Of course, it looks like it has travelled half the world — because it has — but it is still functional.
Cheap Chinese-made backpacks are useless for long-term travel. They usually last only a week or two before something breaks. Once I even tried a branded “McKinley” backpack from Intersport. The body strap snapped within a week, and that kind of damage is almost impossible to repair with normal stitching.
I’ve also tried more expensive sport-shop brands. I had a “Quechua” once, and at least that one didn’t break in the first week. But disaster struck anyway: I had food inside, fell asleep somewhere outdoors, and rats tried to get in. Instead of opening the bag properly, they simply chewed holes straight through the fabric. That wasn’t the first time rats destroyed my gear.
Standard hiking backpacks are usually over 50 liters and cost hundreds of euros. I don’t need that much space, so I’ve chosen cheaper and smaller options.
I’ve also found some eBay sellers offering exactly the right kind of bags for me for slightly under 40 euros. They are camouflage or military-style, which makes them less visible at night and fits well with my dark clothing and military boots.
I use my backpack as a pillow when I sleep. I’ve never understood why I should carry extra weight like a mattress or inflatable pillow. Once I tried sleeping on a Therm-a-Rest, but I woke up lying next to it instead of on it.
Essentials
Backpacks usually have side pockets and a top pocket. In one side pocket I keep toothpaste, a toothbrush, a soap box with soap, small shampoo packets, scissors, a spoon, and the most important item for me — a wine bottle opener. I also carry my hitchhiking marker and a normal pen.
When you try to reach an autoroute for hitchhiking, you must write your destination clearly so drivers can see it. I’m always surprised how many hitchhikers desperately try to stop cars without any sign showing where they want to go.
I keep my knife hidden, because it seems to be illegal to carry one in many EU countries. Police or security staff will confiscate it immediately if they see it. I assume this is due to frequent terrorist incidents. Nowadays I even have trouble entering libraries or shopping centres with my camping gas or lighter gas bottle, because security checks are everywhere.
The other side pocket holds my lighter gas, salt and pepper, tea bags, a sewing kit, spare lighter gas, metal filters for my pipe, and similar small items.
I usually attach my camping gas bottle, my cup, and a 1.5‑liter water bottle to the outside of the backpack.
I once lost my stainless steel cup, so at the moment I’m using a smaller aluminium one. I haven’t yet found a shop selling a proper stainless steel replacement. They don’t sell them on eBay either — only titanium “special” camping cups, which are worse than my aluminium one. The problem is that metal gets too hot to drink from, water takes longer to boil, and the drink ends up tasting like aluminium.
I own a small camping stove, and it has been a lifesaver for making coffee and soups. The problem is that small stoves use Coleman gas, which is rare and expensive in Europe, sold only in specialised hiking stores. So I bought an adapter from China to use the more common CP gas bottles with my stove. To my surprise, it arrived and fit perfectly.
Earlier I ordered a special tube to refill Coleman gas bottles. The Coleman side fits, but I haven’t found any large gas bottles in Europe that match the other connector. Probably Europe uses different gas standards than China or the US. Ironically, a large household gas bottle here costs less than a small Coleman camping canister. I still carry the adapter in hope that somewhere I’ll find a compatible bottle.
Without a stove, my coffee addiction became expensive. Paying over one euro several times a day in cafés was too much. Now I can make a full week of coffee for the same price.
When travelling or hiking, I also love making warm soups. They are easy to carry, cheap to buy, and with some bread you have a proper meal during the day.
I’ve learned that creaming my boots is essential if I want them to last more than a few months. So I always carry boot cream in my backpack. After rain, I try to remember to treat the leather.
My current boots are French military ones, and they are now lasting their second winter. Maybe it’s because of the cream, or maybe they are simply more durable — but I can’t afford to take risks. Good boots are expensive. My grandmother always told me that if you keep your feet dry, you won’t get sick, and she was right. With my homeless traveller lifestyle, I cannot afford to fall ill.
Main Pocket of My Backpack
The most important item in my main pocket is my computer. For years I used a MacBook Air 2015 — I’ve gone through four of them — and recently I finally got the M1 model. The MacBook Air is lightweight, and I keep it in the special padded pocket inside my backpack. My computer is the most important tool I have for making a living.
I also carry a battery bank and a foldable solar panel. Even though I usually work in public libraries and can charge my battery bank there, it has been convenient to charge it in nature while resting.
I own a very limited amount of clothing: two pairs of jeans, a few T‑shirts, some underwear and socks. In France I can use a washing machine for free once a month, and in Barcelona they exchange your clothes at the free shower places, so there is no need to own much. However, I never find jeans in my size from those places.
To keep things organised, I separate clean and used clothes into different bags. It’s also practical to divide them into smaller plastic bags and place them at the bottom of the backpack. My previous backpack broke from the bottom because the corners where the straps were attached had too much empty space. Now I fill the corners with clothes, and the backpack actually fits better on my back.
I used to carry my winter pullover during summer, but it’s easier to give it away in spring and ask for a new one from a charity when winter comes. It saves space. I still have to carry my jacket even on hot summer days.
On top of everything sits my food bag. I was so excited about my stove that I once decided to start making eggs and bacon. I bought a small pan — but eggs are sold in packs of 12 or more and are impossible to carry in a backpack. Also, never take free yogurts with you; they will explode. I felt sad throwing the pan away, because I really enjoyed bacon and eggs.
You don’t really need a tent in Southern Europe. But to survive winters further north, a tent becomes essential. In the South, I usually just find grassy areas near supermarkets on the roads leaving towns, drink my evening wine and go to the bushes to sleep when tired. But winters in Germany or Northern France are colder and wetter, so a tent is a must.
I liked the very lightweight (650 g) camouflage tent from China. It was so low that once set up, it was almost invisible in the grass. Unfortunately, the quality wasn’t great. When the manufacturer decided to shorten the ribbon connecting the bottom and top, it created a perfect hole for rainwater to flow inside like a basin. Still, any cheap two‑person tent weighs just over 1 kg and is manageable to carry.
