Picture this: you’re brewing tea at 6:59 am, thumb hovering over your phone, ready to pounce as soon as a campsite opens its bookings. You refresh the page at 7:00 sharp—and every pitch is gone, snatched away within seconds. It’s not just you. Holidaymakers across the UK are hitting refresh and hitting a wall, locked out from the best spots by an invisible enemy. So, yeah, bots really are booking campsites faster than you and me, and it’s causing plenty of people to grit their teeth.
Camping has never been hotter. According to the UK Camping and Caravanning Club, bookings for summer 2023 and 2024 hit new records, jumping over 25% above pre-pandemic numbers. Everyone, it seems, wants a slice of that wild, fireside, marshmallow-toasting life. But supply can’t keep up, especially in the popular hotspots—think Cornwall, Lake District, Northumberland. It's like trying to score Glastonbury tickets… only your competition is a tireless robot that doesn’t blink.
Talk to any regular camper, like me and my son Renly, and you’ll hear variations of the same story. Usually, there’s outrage. I remember one morning in April, when Renly wanted to camp in the New Forest. I had every device ready, refreshed the website three different ways, and still lost to mystery “users.” Later, a friend let me in on a secret: it wasn’t campers grabbing all the sites but bots—cheap bits of software bought online or home-brewed by enterprising techies. They sweep through reservation systems the second bookings launch, grabbing as many spots as possible, often for resellers or organized groups.
How Bots Are Hijacking Campsite Bookings
If you thought bots only made trouble with sneakers or concert tickets, think again. Campsite bots run the same game, only the product is a pitch under the stars instead of a pair of Yeezys. These bots work at lightning speed. They can monitor dozens of sites at once, log you out or crash booking systems (if the website is flimsy), and fill up cart after cart just milliseconds after reservations open.
Where did this start? Automated booking bots aren’t new. Way back in 2019, the U.S. obsession with Yosemite and Yellowstone pushed frustrated campers to build tools that monitored campsite openings and autofilled details for them. Over here in the UK, it’s boomed since COVID, when staycations made popular sites disappear in minutes. Now, you’ve got hobbyists selling bot scripts for a fiver on forums and Telegram channels, plus professional resellers who’ll charge you £10-£50 for a “secured” pitch.
The bots themselves range from simple browser extensions to complex cloud-based services. They plug into campsite reservation engines like Camping and Caravanning Club, National Trust, Forestry England, or independent glampsites. Sometimes they use fake names or “placeholders” that will later get revised (or sold off). The main thing: they bypass those frustrating captchas and “waiting rooms,” moving quicker than any human.
The end result? Real families lose out. If you’re registering by hand, your odds of booking a popular August weekend at Durdle Door or Epping Forest hover somewhere between slim and impossible. Here’s the harsh truth: in 2024, two-thirds of the best coastal and forest campsites in England were fully booked online within three minutes of their availability. And insiders estimate roughly 10–15% of those bookings are made using some kind of automated tool or bot.
| Year | Total UK Campground Bookings | Sites Reporting Bot Activity | Average Time to Sell Out (mins) |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2022 | 1,290,000 | 9% | 8.4 |
| 2023 | 1,515,000 | 14% | 4.1 |
| 2024 | 1,700,000 | 23% | 2.8 |
While not every campsite is at risk, those in high demand—especially with good facilities and nearby attractions—find themselves overwhelmed by this silent digital scramble. Some sites, like Scotland’s Loch Lomond or certain bits of Pembrokeshire, have even seen local businesses snapping up slots with bots to package into “luxury glamping” bundles at hefty markups.
What This Means for Campers Across the UK
The fallout lands hardest on regular folks just trying to plan a holiday. Plenty of us are left wondering: who the heck actually managed to bag that last available pitch? On Facebook groups and Reddit threads, frustration spills over. Some suspect insider deals or backroom allocations, but it's usually just automation at work, wrapped up in Python and cookies.
One obvious side effect has been a spike in “secondary pitch markets.” You’ll often spot adverts on Gumtree, Facebook Marketplace, or even WhatsApp, where newly-acquired bookings go up for resale. These pitches, snapped up by bots, are now changing hands at double or triple their original prices. That supposed “cheap” week by the beach morphs into a pricey splurge—assuming you even trust the person selling.
It’s not only cost that takes a hit but also spontaneity. Used to be, you could plan a last-minute trip if the weather looked promising. Now? Forget it. Popular campsites are picked clean weeks—sometimes months—in advance. The only slots left are midweek (when most of us are working), remote fields without toilets, or luxury pods costing more than a cottage rental.
For families, the disappointment hits harder. If your kids are anything like Renly, they’ll get their hopes up for a classic woodland or seaside adventure. Then the digital arms race ends with “Sorry, nothing’s left.” It’s crushing. Some people try calling campsites directly, hoping to sidestep bots, but even phone lines can be tied up or point you back to the bot-ravaged website.
The knock-on effects are getting real. Authentic camping gets less accessible, especially for those without deep pockets or tech savvy. And, for those who do rope in bot tools, there’s the constant worry: will the site spot and cancel my “suspicious” booking?
Here are some consequences UK campers are seeing right now:
- More families getting shut out of favourite sites, especially at busy times.
- A rise in booking cancellations (if sites spot bot activity).
- Fake or fraudulent bookings, where resold pitches turn out to be non-existent.
- Camping prices creeping up, thanks to a resale-driven market.
- Campers missing out on short-notice trips and last-minute getaways when the weather's finally nice.
All this is driving change. Campsite owners are getting wise. Some have started running anti-bot software, blocking entire IP ranges, or adding randomised opening hours for new bookings. A few even require photo ID matching on arrival, making bot-driven booking resale trickier but not impossible. Others release a handful of tent spaces each day, rather than bulk opening months at once, to level the field for genuine campers.
But tech moves fast and so do the people behind booking bots. If you think this is just a blip, think again. As long as there’s high demand, there’ll always be someone figuring out a new way to game the system.
What Can You Do to Beat the Bots?
Okay, so what’s a normal camper supposed to do? Throw in the towel and forget the family tent? Absolutely not. While this might sound all doom and gloom, there are still ways to tip the odds a bit back in your favour.
First, flexibility is your friend. If you can swing midweek stays or shoulder seasons (think late spring or early autumn), you’re more likely to find real availability. A lot of bots are set to chase the classic Friday or Saturday arrivals. Dodging the obvious dates sometimes helps.
Set up alerts. While a lot of manual scanners are fighting a losing battle, you can sign up for official waitlists (many bigger campsites offer them now) or set price-drop alerts on apps like Pitchup and Cool Camping. Some of these apps now flag potential “unusual booking” activity, so you can avoid listings likely grabbed by bots and resellers.
Keep your details ready to roll. That means your name, address, bank card—have them autofilled to move as fast as possible when slots appear. You’re never going to beat a bot in speed, but you can outrun the dawdlers.
Try calling. Yes, it’s old school, and yes, it sometimes works. Some sites hold back a few pitches for phone or walk-in customers. I've had luck a couple of times this way, especially outside high summer. Persistence pays off: call after cancellations, not just first thing in the morning. You’d be amazed how many people forget or have their plans change.
Book directly through smaller, family-run campsites. They may not even list online, relying instead on email or social media messages. You can find some gems this way—where bots simply aren’t in play.
If you stumble into a resale market, be smart. Check if the booking is transferable. Most legitimate sites won’t allow transfer at all. If someone asks for payment off-platform, steer clear. It’s a jungle out there, but it doesn’t have to eat up your holiday cash.
- Be flexible with dates and locations
- Join official waitlists where possible
- Set up alerts on reputable apps
- Prepare details for quick input
- Call campsites after getting “sold out” online
- Scout for small or non-listed campsites
- Avoid paying for bookings in unauthorized secondary markets
For those with a techy streak: some hobbyists are building public tools that monitor cancellations without exploiting systems (basically, these send push notifications instead of booking for you). Think of them as helpful traffic reporters rather than queue-jumping bots. Look for groups on Reddit like r/UKcamping or in Facebook communities, where people share cancelation notifications.
Campsite operators are also getting support. In 2025, booking platforms like Pitchup have begun to experiment with anti-bot captchas, randomised ticket releases, and “verified human” checkboxes—nothing perfect, but a step forward. The government has so far resisted calls to regulate campsite resale the way they did with concert tickets, but the issue is finally getting tabled for debate this autumn. In the meantime, public pressure can prompt campsite owners to limit re-bookings from the same Gmail address or unverified accounts.
One hopeful note: nature still rewards patience and love of adventure. If you miss one booking, discover a new walk, a wild camp (where legal), or a hidden field. That’s the side of camping bots can’t touch—the moments you stumble into when plans fall through.
Don’t let the bots steal the heart of British camping. Stay savvy, support honest campsites, and remember why you’re out there: not just to claim a pitch, but to make some memories with your crew, even if you have to hack the booking game a bit along the way.