Holiday for one

Going on holiday all by yourself is just what you need to reset like a champion, writes Puno Selesho.

- Puno Selesho

The long-tailed widowbird, pitch black with a patch of red on the shoulder, races my white Kia Picanto and wins, his long tail flapping elegantly as he hurries ahead to announce my arrival. The widowbird was born for the farmland winds, my Picanto was made for the inner city.

Yet here I am plunging deeper into the belly of the Free State, dodging potholes while my entire body vibrates on the merciless gravel. It’s been a nine-hour drive from my home in Mtunzini, in northern KZN. A name drew me here: Rosendal. Previous visitors to the town describe it as a haven for artists to burrow away, pulling their fraying ends together after pouring themselves out on screens and stages. Some of my friends who’ve grown up in the Free State tell tales of endless nothingness, a monotony that has the town spellbound. So enchanting is the slowness of

each day that people continue to live, love and thrive in this town. With a population that could fit into a university lecture hall, I surmised that this was the perfect town for my annual holiday for one: my solo-cation.

Every year since 2017, I’ve escaped my schedule to somewhere I’ve never been to before, all by myself. “To go on holiday!” I respond to

those who ask, “Why?” with concerned and puzzled eyes. And it’s true: I travel to unwind, yes, but also to think – to think clearer than ever before. To investigate my thoughts and feelings without the limitation of responsibilities, or the need to carry a conversation. I go so that I may see what version of me emerges in silence and solitude. I have a feeling I might like her!