How to go on a mini-break by yourself
By Alice Austin
We all have things that terrify us – spiders, street performers in Covent Garden, flying. When I tell people I go on holiday alone they often say “that’s my worst nightmare.” They imagine solitary dinners, lonely walks on a beach or me nursing a half pint of shandy in my hotel room watching re-runs of Geordie Shore in Spanish.
Not so. As a young buck I had two friendship-ruining experiences travelling with pals. I was convinced I could have a better time on my own and so went on my first soliday (solo holiday) when I was 23. I went to Madrid and Barcelona, stayed in hostels, went on bar crawls, dougied in super clubs and met tons of people without having to answer to any of them. After that week I was sold.
Since then my tastes have changed. Now I’m 27 and have no interest in playing drinking games with 23 year olds (that’s not true at all lol) and due to a recent bed bug experience I won’t stay in shared dorms anymore. So now I must soliday without the social safety net of a hostel.
This April I decided to go on a mini-break alone. I had a free weekend and so booked flights to Skopje, a city I’d never heard of before (it’s the capital city of Macedonia, yeah I know me neither). Three weeks later I was on a Wizz-Air flight wondering what the fuck I was going to do by myself for 3 nights in Skopje.
So here’s what I did.
Friday
I’d booked a private room in the apartment of a woman called Rosa on Airbnb. Rosa was mid 40s, the mother of two sons and it was her birthday that weekend.
When I arrived Rosa had laid out some orange flavoured birthday cake on a table in my huge double room with a balcony (€8 per night!!!) As I munched on the (delightful) cake we had a little chat. “Why are you in Skopje? Do you know anyone here?” “No,” I said. Rosa looked surprised. “Well I’m glad I’m not your mother,” she said. And then I went straight on Tinder.
It was 6pm on a Friday night. By 7pm I had a Tinder date with a Skopjan graphic designer who didn’t seem to be a murderer and agreed to be my tour guide for the evening.
Skopje felt like a young city. We met in a bustling area in the centre, full of bars and food trucks. Palm trees lined the streets and graffiti smattered the low-rise, dusty-pink buildings. The bar we went to was dimly lit and full of plants.
Bobby asked what the hell I was doing in Skopje. I told him I don’t really know, I love a soliday, I’m here for the weekend. He repeated that to himself and said “that’s so cool.” We had 4 drinks between us; it came to €5.
We walked back to Rosa’s house, hugged goodbye and he invited me out with him and his mates the following night.
Saturday
I woke up the next morning to a soaring feeling of euphoria. Knowing that I can go wherever I want, whenever I want and have a great time without having to rely on anyone else is the most liberating feeling in the world.
That morning I went to a breakfast place called Fitness House that served egg white omelettes and granola. I loved it there. It was made even better by the fact that a fast-food restaurant had opened next door called Fatness House and I couldn’t figure out who was trolling who.
After my omelette I walked to the city centre to join a free walking tour. Most cities have these. They’re a great thing to do by yourself and a good way to meet people.
The tour was held by a man called Zadar who had very few teeth and was surrounded by a pack of stray dogs. “They follow me every day,” he said with a flash of tooth and a hint of pride. An Aussie couple were also on the tour and we became best mates immediately.
Zadar walked us through Skopje, showing us the obnoxious monuments the government have built all around the city (if you’re interested look up Skopje 2014, the money-laundering government project that is so behind schedule it was future-looking when they named it). We walked over some nice bridges, checked out fancy statues and inspected colossal government buildings. (I later walked a different route of the city and realised Zadar had taken us the only route that looked vaguely fancy.) We weren’t allowed into many of the sites due to the pack of stray dogs that followed us but Zadar didn’t seem to mind.
After the walking tour me and the Aussie couple went to get a drink in a beer garden in the Old Town and agreed to meet up for dinner later.
We went to a traditional Macedonian restaurant and ate casserole and potatoes served in thick orange crockery. Our 3 course meal cost 4 euros each.
After dinner I met up with Bobby and we went to what looked like an events room in a pub in the middle of Skopje park. I drank gin and tonics that cost less than a euro and met Bobby’s Macedonian mates.
Then on a stage at the back of the function room a cover band began to set up. The front man looked like he’d been plucked straight out of The Camden Barfly in 2003 and played alarmingly accurate covers of songs by System of a Down, Nirvana, Green Day, POD and Alien Ant Farm. I head-banged and screeched along with Bobby and his mates and it was absolutely glorious.
Sunday
Before I’d arrived in Skopje I booked a half day tour of the surrounding Macedonian nature. I was hungover that morning but a coffee and omelette at Fitness House helped.
Sufficiently refuelled I headed over to Skopje Zoo. Here I hung out with some deflated-looking emus and emotionally drained leopards and, after a genuinely intense stare-off with an openly depressed hippo, headed to the meeting point of my half day tour.
Me and about 12 others were driven to a beautiful canyon where we caught a boat over a green lagoon to one of the largest caves in the world. I went in for 5 minutes but it was dank as fuck and full of bats. Not for me, I waited outside.
After the cave we visited an old church and caught a cable car to see a giant cross on a hill. Here I started chatting to a young couple on my tour from Russia and Poland.
As we disembarked back in Skopje city centre I asked if they wanted to grab a drink later. This is the hard part of solidays – putting yourself out there to potentially be told no. But it’s important to take these risks and the nice couple said yes anyway.
We met two hours later at a Speakeasy so hidden away they had to come out and collect me. The bar played a mix of deep house and disco and the moustached barman served us €3 highballs (clearly one of the more expensive places to drink in the city).
Needless to say I can’t be trusted and the night completely escalated.
Monday
6am. I stumbled back to Rosa’s as the sun came up. My flight was at noon.
Before I went to sleep I ate another slice of Rosa’s orange cake (she just kept topping up the cake supply every time I left the room) and passed out.
I woke up to worried knocks from Rosa. “Don’t you have a flight to catch?”
Shit, I do, yes. I stuffed my clothes into my backpack, hugged Rosa goodbye and jumped in a taxi to the airport. As I pulled away I could see Rosa standing on the balcony of my bedroom, waving and shaking her head affectionately. Probably thinking to herself “Thank God I’m not her mother.”
