An Outsider’s Take on an Aussie Classic: Swag Camping in the Outback

The Swag Awakening

Before I could even ask, Dan was already beaming. “I’ve been thinking we should sleep in a swag!”

That should have been my first red flag.

Dan had just finished walking me through the build of his off-road racing Gladiator—his rugged 4×4 designed to conquer Australia’s most remote landscapes. I admired the elaborate slide-out kitchen, the well-planned filtration system, and its undeniable desert racing truck capabilities. But something seemed… off.

Subscribe to our weekly newsletter

“A swag?” I echoed, hesitant.

Dan nodded, the excitement clear on his face. And while I rolled the unfamiliar word around in my mouth, trying to make sense of it, I could already tell I was in for something uniquely Australian.

What Exactly is a Swag?

Turns out, the term “swag” has deep roots in Australia, dating back to the gold rush era when it referred to a person’s bounty—whether legally acquired or not. Over time, it evolved to describe a traveler’s rolled-up bedroll, used by bushmen—Australia’s equivalent to cowboys and desert explorers.

“It’s what the old bushmen used,” Dan explained, eyes alight with nostalgia. “It’s like a bedroll, with everything you need inside.”

So, a sleeping bag? A bivvy? A tent?

Sort of. Not really.

And that’s when I knew I’d just have to experience it for myself.

Swag Life: The Reality Check

A few months later, after flying to the opposite side of the planet, Dan finally had his chance to educate me on Aussie culture—including a marathon of classic off-road racing in California and Outback adventure films. Midway through a scene, a character rolled out a musty, dust-covered bedroll—something you’d expect to find in an old military surplus store.

Dan sat forward, thrilled. “That’s a swag!! See?”

I looked at him, trying to match his enthusiasm, but my attention was glued to the scene that followed: a massive tiger snake slithering across the heroine’s face as she slept.

“Of course, we’d get one with a cover,” Dan assured me.

He went on, explaining that safety in a swag was all about the zip. “You just zip it up tight, and nothing’s getting in—no snakes, no spiders, no unwanted visitors in the night.” Which, as I later learned, was especially comforting during winter in the Outback, when the cold keeps most creepy-crawlies sluggish and out of your bedroll ambitions.

Dan added that in the morning, rolling up your swag and strapping it down is non-negotiable. “You don’t want to come back after a hike and find someone else’s idea of ‘cozy’ inside,” he laughed, meaning anything from a curious gecko to a wayward snake. Campsites are busy enough that most creatures steer clear, but leaving your swag open is practically an invitation.

At that point, the prospect of zipping myself up like a human burrito felt marginally more appealing—at least compared to starring in my own Outback horror film.

Swag 1.0: The First Test

Months later, Dan excitedly revealed our first swag—a secondhand purchase from GumTree, Australia’s Craigslist equivalent.

If you’re hunting for your own swag, there are plenty of options—each with its own quirks and level of comfort. Some look a bit like a solo tent, complete with a built-in bug screen and a top that zips open so you can stargaze from the comfort of your canvas cocoon. You’ll spot these at outdoor retailers like Bunnings or Anaconda, and they’re popular with everyone from long-haul tour guides to families escaping the city for a dusty weekend.

On the other end of the spectrum, you can go full bushman and track down a classic bedroll—just canvas, mattress, and a healthy disregard for personal space. For the budget-minded or vintage-inclined, secondhand options pop up at places like GumTree, Vinnie’s, or Salvo’s. There’s even a thriving market for swags designed for pets, if your dog is particularly keen on roughing it.

No matter where you get it, every swag comes with the promise of adventure—and, possibly, a few stubborn red dirt stains.

The plan was to take it on a test run with his brother’s family during a camping weekend at Wye River.

The plan was to take it on a test run with his brother’s family during a camping weekend at Wye River. With a dramatic kick, Dan unrolled it onto the dry dirt. It had poles, a roof, and a questionable bug screen. But at its core, it was still just a heavy-duty canvas sack laid out on the ground.

Trying to make it as cozy as possible, I added linen sheets (pink, to camouflage the inevitable Outback dust), a woven cotton duvet cover, and a thick wool blanket (or “doona” as Aussies call it). I was ready for our first night.

The Swag Experience: Claustrophobia and Fidget-Friendly?

If you’ve ever wondered whether swags are made for restless sleepers or anyone wary of tight spaces, let me save you a midnight panic attack: swags aren’t exactly spacious. Even the roomier, two-person models can feel more like a snug cocoon than a palatial tent—especially once you zip yourself in for the night.

For most bushmen (and anyone who doesn’t wake up kicking the roof), this close-quarters sleeping style is part of the charm. But if you’re prone to feeling boxed in, or you tend to toss and turn like a rotisserie chicken, swags can test your patience. I learned firsthand that the canvas walls don’t leave much room for midnight thrashing—or existential crises triggered by low ceilings.

If you love sprawling out to claim your territory or just need a little more breathing room, it’s wise to try the swag out in your backyard before taking it bush. And remember: just because it’s an Aussie classic doesn’t mean it’s everyone’s cup of billy tea. Swags are best for those who don’t mind a snug fit and can sleep soundly with heavy canvas just inches from their noses.

And then, the rain came.

Swags are celebrated for their simplicity—just toss them off the roof rack and roll them out. But ours, with its modern additions like poles and fly nets, required a more involved setup. We fumbled with zippers, guy lines, and vents as rain pounded down.

Inside, the thick canvas trapped heat and moisture, plunging us into total darkness. Ventilation? Nonexistent. The foam mattress quickly absorbed water, transforming into a glorified sponge.

“It’s like a badly designed tent,” I muttered, laughing at the absurdity of it all.

And that was just the beginning.

Swag Camping: A Cultural Shift

Over the next few weeks, I noticed a stark difference in the way Australians and Canadians approach off-road camping. Back home, sleeping on the ground without a tent would be unthinkable—between the bears, freezing nights, and relentless dew, nobody would dare. But in Australia, it’s a badge of honor.

At campgrounds, there were always sections reserved for swag campers, where people casually rolled out their bedrolls beside the fire, swapping Outback stories late into the night. No tent poles, no fuss—just a canvas cocoon under a billion-star sky.

To be fair, Australia’s climate makes it possible. Stable weather, clear nights, and warm temperatures mean dew isn’t an issue. And with the desert racing truck culture thriving, it made sense that people valued practicality over luxury.

Swag Camp Like a Pro: Comfort and Safety Tips

While the romance of rolling out a swag under the Milky Way is hard to beat, there are a few essentials (beyond sheer bravado) when it comes to using one safely and actually getting a decent night’s sleep—especially if your definition of “adventure” doesn’t involve surprise wildlife encounters or waking up in a puddle.

After countless nights perfecting the art of swag habitation, here’s what I wish someone had told me before my initiation:

1. Pick Your Plot Wisely
Your comfort starts with your campsite. Look for level ground free of rocks, roots, or surprise ant nests. A few extra minutes spent scouting for the “Goldilocks zone” will save your back and your mood come morning.

2. Air Out and Layer Up
That built-in foam mattress can be surprisingly supportive—think minimalist chic, not medieval torture device. To up your comfort, bring a fitted sheet or a lightweight sleeping bag liner (seafoam green, anyone?). For colder nights, layers are key: a wool doona and thermal pajamas beat shivering in your socks.

3. Master the Zippers
Swags are fortresses when zipped shut, keeping most critters out. Make a habit of fully closing all zippers before snoozing (and double-checking them in the morning). An unzipped swag is less “Aussie outback” and more “bed & breakfast for passing possums.”

4. In the Morning, Roll and Strap
Leaving your swag unrolled and open during the day is an open invitation for unwelcome guests—geckos, skinks, or that legendary huntsman spider. Roll it up and fasten those straps tight, or risk returning to an impromptu ecosystem.

5. Seasonal Smarts
Cool nights mean less snake and spider activity, but don’t get complacent. In warmer months, extra vigilance (and maybe a cursory shake-out) goes a long way. That said, the communal energy of a bustling campsite usually keeps most wildlife at bay.

Pro Tips Worth Packing:

A foam kneeling pad (from Bunnings) does double duty: pillows your knees as you crawl in and makes a great doormat to minimize dirt.
LED headlamps (Petzl, Black Diamond) for midnight bathroom runs without waking the whole campground.
Dry bags for shoes and electronics—they will end up outside at some point.

Swag sleeping isn’t about luxury—it’s about embracing the rough edges (with just enough padding to make it through the night smiling).

Swag 2.0: The Upgrade

After enduring two months in our budget swag, we decided to upgrade to a Rainger double swag—one designed for actual long-term travel. From the moment we unrolled it, the difference was night and day.

This one had:
– A pole system that provided actual headroom
– A waterproof base (no more sponge mattress)
-Dual doors with zippers on both sides
-A built-in cover that acted as a rainfly
– Interior storage pockets that didn’t crush our feet
– And the ultimate luxury: an integrated solar-powered fairy light system

Swags these days really do come in all shapes and sizes, ranging from the most basic canvas rolls to high-tech, feature-packed mini-homes. Some are pure canvas, while others have a tougher polyethylene or rubber base to keep out moisture. You’ll find versions with or without built-in mattresses—ours came with a foam mattress, but pillows are usually BYO (I just used a bundled-up sweater on my daypack for months and survived).

You can even get swags with built-in mosquito netting so you can sleep under the stars, or opt for classic bedroll styles for the minimalist at heart. Whether you buy from the local Bunnings, Anaconda, or snag a deal at a secondhand shop, there’s a swag for every kind of traveler, budget, and comfort preference.

Was it still big and heavy? Absolutely. But after sleeping in pre-runner trucks and off-road racing rigs, size and weight weren’t dealbreakers. And at this point, we were committed to doing things the “Aussie way.”

Final Verdict: Swag or Bust?

Over 500 nights later, I had to admit—swag life had its perks. Unlike traditional tents, it held up against the harsh Outback sun, shrugged off sharp vegetation, and created much-needed shade during the day. And once we left the roof open and embraced the night sky, the experience was unlike anything else.

Of course, swags aren’t perfect—especially if, like me, you tend to roll around in your sleep and occasionally wake up in a different postcode. But there’s an unspoken genius in their design: unlike a regular tent, you can toss your swag right into the tray of a ute and sleep soundly above the red dirt, far from curious snakes, relentless ants, or the odd wandering critter. It’s the kind of peace of mind that makes even a restless sleeper feel at home in the bush.

Sure, we had our fair share of misadventures—battling curious dingos, playing tug-of-war with zippers, and cursing the sheer weight of it—but there was something undeniably special about sleeping the way bushmen and off-road racers had for generations.

Would I choose a swag over a rooftop tent? Not a chance.

But would I do it all again?

Well, maybe after a few nights in an actual bed first.