I thought I’d be watching the eclipse alone.
Inner Child
Since I was a little boy, I have dreamed of seeing a total eclipse again. I remember standing in the garden of my childhood home back in 1999, watching the reflections in the windows. A vivid memory I have held onto.
For this year’s eclipse in Spain, I presumed I would stay at home in the Pyrenees and enjoy a partial eclipse with my family.
Then just days before, the weather reports became more concrete. Huge afternoon storms had arrived, putting an end to the summer drought and also any chance of seeing the eclipse.
So plan B was activated. Just five hours away and basking in 40 degree heat, was the chance to soak up a whole 1.5minute of totality in the Spanish Desert.
Arrival
Setting off early in the morning of the big day, I soon met the tail-end of the traffic. Thousands and thousands of people all moving south for the same reason. There were roadworks, queues behind motorhomes and many more kilometres to go.
Early in the afternoon, somewhere on the outskirts of Zaragossa, I crossed over into the unmarked zone of totality. The giveaway was cars filling every motorway rest stop, and tripods and telescopes setup under everything that created some shade from the harsh sun overhead.
The feeling was surreal.
With another one or two hours to go, I felt extremely nervous of missing it. I’d spent the days before this scouring Google Maps for secluded park ups and possible dirt tracks that would lead me to somewhere suitable for the eclipse. I was in my Dacia Bigster, so the idea of sneaking off the main roads and losing myself in the desert seemed like the best idea.
But something strange came over me as I pulled up at the first location I had planned for.
There were a lot of camper vans, cars, tents and people. But something in my mind changed in that very moment.
Why am I trying to be alone?
A strange community
I found a spot to park at alongside strangers. I checked the compass to ensure I had a clear view of where the sun would set, and cast an eye around to see who’s around me and if I really wanted to be by them.
Of course, my options were still open. I could disappear down the dirt track behind everyone.
Number plates from Belgium, Switzerland, Spain and the UK. Strangers who had come from all over Europe to this exact spot and for the same reason. I felt a connection to the idea of enjoying this moment with other humans. Not on my own lost in the landscape.
Nobody needed an introduction or permission to be here. But everyone shared the same reason for coming.
Tripod, Tentbox and my camp chair were all set up. 1930 marked the start of the eclipse, but you only knew it by looking through the special glasses. And there it was, the first little bite out of the sun had been taken. Right then the realisation hit me. I couldn’t believe it - I’m actually going to see this happen at long last!
Things got weird kind of fast. One of my strange neighbours was walking around with a handy cam, just like something from the 90’s. The light was changing and the wind started to whip up dust.
And then the temperature dropped.
1 minute and 34 seconds
I saw the light swipe across the landscape in a matter of seconds and my hair stood on end.
Pulling the glasses off my face, looking up at the same sight as hundreds of other people around me, it felt like we were in space.
I shot a few frames on my DSLR, then forgot about the cameras. The glow of the corona wrapping around the moon was like nothing I have seen before. And through my binoculars, pink solar flares could be seen reaching far out beyond.
And as quickly as the light had disappeared, the show came to an end and the sun’s rays returned to planet earth. Then, everyone clapped to sign off a once in a lifetime moment.
Shared Moments
Like many adventures before, I thought this one would be about finding somewhere where no-one else had thought to go. Instead, the best version of this experience was discovering that hundreds of other people had thought the exact same thing.
The reward was sharing it with other interested people, all brought together for that short period of time to witness what I can now say was the most impressive sight I have ever seen.
See you out there for the next one?
Alex B.
Founding Editor Advanture Magazine
p.s Issue 16 of Advanture magazine starts shipping this week. Grab a copy and find somewhere to disconnect.
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