We’re suckers for a good astronomical experience. The solar system promised us a total solar eclipse just over the mountains from home in Spain. That’s only about 300 km or 190 mi if we could fly like a bird, but, given that the Pyrenees Mountains are in the way, it’s around 500 km or 310 mi by road.
No problem. Great excuse to explore some territory en route to and from our viewing destination.
As you probably know from the world-wide coverage of the eclipse, the path of totality sliced through northern Spain, from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean. We chose for our base of operations the historic village of Sos del Rey Católico in the province of Zaragoza. The village lies just a few kilometers from the zone of totality.
Google and GPS told us that the shortest-time route from home to Sos del Rey Católico was to go around the Pyrenees by way of the Basque Country of France and Spain. That is, we would drive all the way to the Atlantic in France, head down the coast a little to San Sebastian, and then head back inland past Pamplona to Sos. Why not! The route gave us the opportunity to visit the town of Pau, famous for its views of the Pyrenees; stay the night in Biarritz to check out the famous beaches; and eat tasty pintxos (Basque tapas) in San Sebastian in Spain. Our friend Elise from Carcassonne joined us, and she shared her photos with us.
Pau
First stop was Pau for a lunch with a hoped-for vista of the peaks of the Pyrenees. We reserved an outdoor table at a bistrot on the well-named Boulevard des Pyrénées. Or course, nature famously has a mind of its own. So, over simple local food, we enjoyed lovely views of the clouds that blocked the mountains. We’ll have to come back in clearer weather.
Pau is an attractive small city, though. We enjoyed a stroll after lunch before heading back on the road.
Biarritz
The town sits in the middle of the Basque coast of France and Spain. Up until the 19th century, the towns along this coast were simply fishing and whaling villages. In 1854, that all changed. Napoleon III and Empress Eugénie chose Biarritz for their summer residence — which meant that much of European aristocracy, royalty, and high society rushed in to get close. From that royal start, Biarritz remained a glittering summer destination until the beginning of World War II.
Since after the war, Biarritz added another dimension: the historic capital of surfing in Europe.
Despite our arranging this overnight stay for the middle of August — which is the highest of the high vacation season — we found a pleasant hotel right in the heart of the old town. The hotel kindly sent us car-access tips to avoid the holiday street closings, which, somehow, we forgot about and relied on GPS and Google instead. The technology dumped us in the town center; it hadn’t noticed all the seasonal street closings. We landed in narrow streets overflowing with very relaxed beach-going tourists who wandered in a daze all over sidewalks and roads (we were jealous). We spent a tense hour trying extricate ourselves from the cryptic warren. Ultimately, we managed to drive away to the edge of town and return on a route based on the hotel’s advice. We were able to drive directly into an underground garage mere steps from the hotel. It took a few minutes to shake off the stress of having felt trapped in a maze without an exit. Lesson learned: listen to the hotel’s recommendations.
Once we calmed down, we discovered lovely views of beach, sea, and town.
We had dinner on a terrace overlooking the beach and its promenade. The food was mediocre, but the scenery was fantastic.
San Sebastián
Our drive the next day (successful exit from city center before our fellow tourists took over) was easy and less than an hour. We arrived at another city garage with ease.
We headed for the oldest part of town, known for its many pintxos bars. A pintxo is a small Basque bite; its name refers to the “spike” or cocktail stick that originally held toppings to bread. Today that can mean a classic anchovy, olive and chilli gilda, a tortilla portion, a croqueta, grilled mushrooms, or a miniature made-to-order dish using fine-dining techniques.
We stopped in one bar and enjoyed a selection of mostly-seafood-based tasty bites. Very fortunately, the bar wasn’t too crowded and the host spoke English. It was evident right away that probably tourists are now many of their customers. A little research reassured us that local pintxos culture continues, especially for lunchtime and later evening.
Sos del Rey Católico
We headed inland for about a two-hour drive to reach the old village of Sos del Rey Católico.
We had chosen Sos because it lies along the northern extent of the totality zone, was relatively easy to access, and has a Parador. The Paradores are a collection of nice hotels located throughout Spain, often housed in historic buildings. During the years after the Spanish Civil War and the dictature of Franco, the government aimed to update the reputation of the country from backward and war-ravaged, to an attractive destination full of history. Behind the choice of establishing a network of good hotels was the fact that many heritage buildings lay in disuse or even ruin.
Since long before 12 August 2026, Sos del Rey Católico has been famous for its eclipses. Like way back to 1354! On 17 September of that year, the sun disappeared. A stone engraving marks the event, which must have had a huge impact on the inhabitants.
It’s easier to see in the t-shirt version:
The inscription includes the day and time in which the phenomenon occurred: “Anno domini MCCCLIIII XVII die septembris hora prima obscuravit sol”, which in Latin means “In the year of the Lord of 1354, on September 17, at the prime time, the sun darkened”. ※
While a tiny minority of Europe’s population — university-trained astronomers, astrologers, and clergy — understood the mechanisms of solar eclipses, average people did not. Eclipses were widely interpreted as portents warning of political upheaval, disaster, plague, or the death of kings.
Today, Sos del Rey Católico is chiefly known as one of Aragón’s best-preserved medieval villages and as the birthplace of King Ferdinand II of Aragón (“Fernando el Católico”) in 1452. That’s the Ferdinand of Ferdinand and Isabella and Columbus and the expulsion of the Moors. The historic centre, walls, stone lanes, palaces and Romanesque churches of Sos make it a major heritage destination in this part of Spain.
We enjoyed wandering the narrow streets of this compact medieval village and checking out the views of the surrounding countryside.
After we had chosen Sos for our eclipse-viewing home base, we realized that Sos isn’t within the zone of totality; it lies a few kilometers outside the totality zone. This meant that, while we would have been able to enjoy the transit of the moon across the face of the sun, we would not have been able to see the time when the moon covers the sun fully. We also realized that the hills around Sos rise higher than the setting sun at the time of the eclipse.
No worries! Only about a 20 minute drive down a country highway brought us to the village of Castiliscar. Just outside of the village, a pair of agricultural buildings sit at the edge of a little drop-off that faces directly west across almost endless plains. There was even a nice big parking area.
The eclipse
On the evening of the eclipse, we drove peacefully along the local highway, barely any other vehicles in sight. We were already hearing of crowds gathering in Valencia and Madrid and other big cities.
We started to worry that our rural viewing spot would be overrun with eclipse enthusiasts like us. There was plenty of room, we told ourselves.
Fortunately, there’d been no reason to worry. We found all of 4 cars and plenty of space to set up our viewing chairs.
And a little local red wine for the passengers.
We watched through our sanctioned eclipse glasses for about an hour as the moon crept over the face of the sun. We focused on the fact of the eerie coincidence that the moon, earth, and sun, with specific diameters and distances, would translate to the moon’s silhouette being almost exactly the same diameter of the distant sun.
Then, only a flash of sunlight was visible — the famous diamond ring — and a second later, the sun was completely covered. What an astonishing moment. It seemed that the sun and moon raced toward us, instantly becoming many times larger. We could look at the sun’s corona with our unprotected eyes — and the iPhone could do its thing too.
Then, after less than 30 seconds, the sun started peaking out from behind the moon. Special glasses back on, and a toast to our very short experience. We also toasted the fact that we already have plans for next year’s much longer eclipse, the totality zone for which will run through the very south of Spain, and across north Africa. We plan on seeing it from Tunisia, and of course, there will be a blog post!
A notable feature of this year’s eclipse, at least as seen from Spain, was that it occurred about a half hour before sunset. We watched the crescent sun slip down behind the horizon. When have you ever seen the sun as a crescent? Beautiful — and a sci-fi-illustration too.
Over the Pyrenees
We chose a different route for our return home. Rather than skirting the Pyrenees, we wanted to drive over them.
We expected and found nice mountain scenery.
But there were (good) surprises too. As we were finishing a switchback climb up the Spanish side to the French border and back down, horse-dung piles started to appear in the road. There was almost no traffic — just horse gifts, but no horses and riders. After a couple of minutes, we emerged from an upslope hairpin turn. Ahead of us, in the open grassland highlands and on the road, untended horses meandered and grazed. We saw no tenders around, although some of the horses had what looked like GPS-location equipment around their necks.
We learned that these horses are considered semi-feral, not truly wild. They live freely on mountain pastures for much of the year but are generally associated with local breeders and seasonal transhumance (which is the schedule of moving livestock from highland summer to lowland winter territories).
Soon after we bade the horses farewell, another natural traffic jam slowed us to stop. This time it was shepherds and their flocks of sheep.
We sat stopped a couple of times as the sheep ambled across the road in front of us in single file. Perhaps they are not the most intelligent of animals, but they are tenacious in their commitment to very long single-file parades.
August 2026