Appointment with the stars

Oh, we needed our celestial appointments in August. They provided blessed relief.

The sun's corona during the total eclipse of 12 August 2026
Photo: Eclipse seen from the dam of the Embalse de Úzquiza
in the province of Burgos in the Sierra de la Demanda
Thomas Holbach - Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0

The problem is that August is a wonderful month to be away from where we live. That’s La Cañada, near Valencia in Spain. Daytime temperatures reached into the mid-thirties (the low nineties Fahrenheit) and even peaked at just under 43°C on the 19th (that’s close to 110°F). Humidity was heavy too. But the worst of all is that the temperature barely fell at night. 

Fortunately Danielle had the foresight, when we first moved here, to cover the roof with solar panels, keeping the cost of electricity down to almost negligible levels. Then, over the first four or five years of our life here, she added air conditioning to room after room, so today only the bathrooms don’t have it. One stroke of genius was to have air conditioning installed in the kitchen, the room most liable to overheating (naturally).

What made all of that particularly important this year is that we didn’t go anywhere. In the past we’ve spent part of the month at least in northern Spain. Last year we even went to Norway. This year we went nowhere. 

We live next to a lovely stretch of woodland. As wildfires raged in other parts of Spain it occurred to me repeatedly that it wasn’t a question of whether our woods would burn, but when. And a related question was ‘how can anyone still be so blind to evidence that they keep on denying climate change?’

In this somewhat fraught atmosphere, it was great to have the heavens – and I mean the heavens, not Heaven – intervene to give us a little relief.

The first occasion was on the 12th of August. That was the total eclipse of the sun. 

Mirador de la Reina

The ideal place to watch it near us was at the Mirador de la Reina (the Queen's Viewpoint), a piece of high ground overlooking the valley of our local river. Sadly, that’s deep into the woods and the authorities made it clear that any attempt to reach the place would be blocked by police and forest wardens. They fully understand the risk of wildfire and weren’t prepared to have hundreds of people traipsing around dry pinewoods when temperatures were at their peak.

But it turned out that we could see the eclipse clearly from our guest bedroom on the upper floor of our house. So we could see the whole thing, including the glory of the sun’s corona showing around the dark disk of the moon, without having to hike three or four kilometres through the woods.

I’d love to be able to say that the photo I’ve included of it was one of my own, but my poor little iPhone proved incapable of producing anything even remotely as dramatic as that. So I’m indebted to someone called Thomas Holbach for his photo. 

Many thanks, Tom.

The day of the eclipse also fell at the start of the peak period for the Perseid meteor shower. Danielle has always been enthusiastic about seeing that phenomenon, even though it generally means being up at 2:00 or 3:00 in the morning. Also it turns out that you really need to be well away from the light pollution where we live. So she told me, soon after we’d watched the eclipse, that she’d booked a hotel room up in the hills, at nearly 1000 metres above sea level, in Aras de los Olmos. It’s close to where both the University of Valencia and the Valencia Astronomy Society have their observatories.

The hotel was great. Pine cladding everywhere. A comfortable room with a large balcony. But nothing felt as good as the temperature: 15°C (just under 60°F) which meant that it was easy to sleep without air conditioning and with the windows open.

True luxury.

The hotel from the outside

Not that we slept much. We’d set alarms for 2:00 in the morning. That’s not so much an alarm as a shock to the system, but it worked.

We drove further up in the hills. There we laid a blanket on the ground and stretched out on it waiting for the shooting stars. 

Now I have to say that what I was expecting was literally showers of the damn things. Like a sort of volley of streaks of light across the sky, perhaps a few at first and then another wave coming behind them, and a further wave after that. What we actually got was the occasional brief flash. I’m sure they cover hundreds of kilometres in reality but, from where we were lying, the trails looked three or four centimetres long. And it was one at a time. 

You know, so irregular that if I had an actual shower that behaved that way, I’d have a plumber out to find out what the matter was with it.

Still, it was pleasant to lie there next to my wife, in the cool of the night. Cool enough to feel good, but not cold enough to warrant wearing anything more than shorts and a T-shirt. Ideal.

A street in Aras de los Olmos

Main square of Aras
and the cafe where we had breakfast

The next day we had breakfast in the lovely little village and then went for a walk in the hills near the observatories.

Observatory of the Valencia Astronomical Society

Then we headed back home. That’s 900 metres lower, and we drove back into the heat and oppression that marked the entire summer. And I’m just thankful to Danielle for having put in the air conditioning. And for having had the idea of getting us up into the hills: even a single night was a delightful relief.

Our two celestial appointments had delivered: an awesome sight from one, and a much-needed break from the other.

Who can ask for more?