There are budget travelers, and there are crusty backpackers—and then there are those chintzy trekkers who hate to pay for anything. Including a roof over their head. I don’t mean a forgoing three-star hotel for an overcrowded, undercleaned $12 hostel. Extreme sleepers prefer the mattress of a park bench, and the beautiful canopy of the stars overhead. Of course, not everyone’s so cheap and/or adventurous—but some end up camping out of necessity. It may be Barcelona’s high season, or Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, just before the Hajj. But don’t let an empty wallet or those damn tourists-with-reservations keep you from getting a good night’s rest.

But before you go pitching your tent in the middle of Central Park, make sure you know what you’re doing. Always keep personal safety in mind, and don’t hesitate to move if you feel uncomfortable. While parks are often safer places to sleep than train stations or bus depots, location makes all the difference. Prague parks are so safe that on summer nights many locals can be found taking naps on the benches. Even better are the outdoor beer gardens, which serve up Prague’s specialty late into the night. You won’t be the only one passed out under a table. But avoid the large park surrounding the central train station, known locally as Sherwood Forest. Stay there and you may wake up to find all your belongings stolen for the poor. Residential areas are quiet and safe; abandoned downtown streets have plenty of benches, but also more unsavory competition for them. Ask locals about safe neighborhoods, and judge the sketchiness factor yourself.

You are far less likely to be bothered if you have a partner, or if you can get a big group together. In Italy, for example, a single person in a park at night is unusual, but a party of six is… well, a party. Before you hit the park, stash your bags in a train station locker. Bring your sleeping bag, one form of I.D. (but not your passport), a little cash, and a flashlight.

Always check the weather forecast. Summer storms, especially in tropical countries, may begin with no warning, and before you know it you’ll be lying in six inches of mud. Have a backup plan in case the weather does act up—e.g., tie a laundry line between two trees and flap your poncho over it to make an impromptu tent—and know the location of a nearby shelter (bus stop, picnic table, store awning). We’re not even going to talk about snow. Pay the cash for a hostel unless you’re truly nuts, or know how to build an igloo.

Respect the authorities, or at least avoid them. While many countries in Western Europe or Scandinavia are accepting of vagrants-for-a-night, much of Asia, the Americas, and Africa have wildly different attitudes toward copping forty winks on public lands. In poverty-stricken countries, the local park has already become a shanty-town, or the cities may be overcrowded with rural immigrants. Certainly, the relationship between parks and the police is less secure. Learn the local laws and customs before you find yourself face to face with a gendarme at 5 a.m. Police in Switzerland may be some of the most polite in the world, but a 10-franc hostel is nothing compared to a 50-franc ticket. If a patent-leather boot nudges your sleeping ribs, smile broadly, explain that you’re just a cheap bastard, and start packing up your things. You’ll probably get off with a warning.

If you keep your eyes and your mind open, you may be able to sleep somewhere truly spectacular: farmers’ fields (as long as you’re out before they start plowing in the morning), hiking trails between nearby towns (common in Europe), under bridges (pick one with little traffic or over a riverbank). Once, exploring the outskirts of Dubrovnik on a road trip down the Dalmatian coast, my companions and I stumbled upon the abandoned Belvedere Hotel, right on the waterfront. We spent four nights sleeping on the outdoor terrace and wandering the empty corridors at night. No running water and no electricity, but the best view in the city. And how often do you get an entire 200-room hotel all to yourself?