Or maybe I should title this “how I spent my vacation”. This was a long, expensive, and occasionally difficult trip, all for the sake of a 90-second once-in-a-lifetime experience. It was well worth it. I have a rather short bucket list, but a total solar eclipse has been at the top of it for a very long time. (Since before I had a bucket list, in fact. I missed my first chance, back in 1959, because of bad weather.)

It all started back in July of 2025, when Naomi told me that she wanted to plan a trip to celebrate my 80th birthday, in March of 2027. I replied that I had no idea where I’d like to go for my 80th, but I knew what I wanted for my 79th, because there was going to be a total solar eclipse on the twelfth of August, 2026.

We’d missed the one in 2017, due to bad planning. We watched it at 99% from our front porch, which was pretty spectacular. Hearing the owls hooting was magical. But that extra 1% makes all the difference. By the end of the day Naomi had made us reservations for a week at a resort hotel with the rather pretentious name of Iberostar Selection Jardín del Sol Suites on the island of Mallorca, in the Mediterranean Sea.

If you’re only here to read about the eclipse, you might want to skip the next two sections and maybe come back here later. Otherwise, read on. Anyway, the trip was from Saturday, 8 August, to Saturday, 15 August, but the important part was on Thursday, 12 August, 2026 at half past eight in the evening, for about 90 seconds.

Getting There

Suspecting that eclipse glasses would be hard to find in the final weeks before the eclipse, I ordered three pairs: for me, Naomi, and her husband G. As it turned out this was a good thing; Naomi also bought glasses, but left them behind in the confusion of packing. (The hotel brought some to everybody’s room a couple of nights before, but we would have spent the first days of the trip frantically trying to find some.) I forgot to take my regular glasses, but my distance vision is good enough without them these days, so I didn’t miss them. I might have gotten a slightly better view of the corona, but only slightly.

Fun fact: the Dutch word for “eyeglasses” is “bril”, and it’s singular rather than plural. I found out recently that it comes from beryl, which is what they were originally made of in 13th century Italy, because glass couldn’t be made clear enough and rock crystal was harder to find.

Over the course of the intervening year, many airlines tightened their carry-on size requirements, and it turned out that my TravelPro Maxlite 5 “international” rollaboard was 5cm too wide. Not that it really mattered for this trip, because we were flying with TransAvia, and cabin bags cost extra. We checked our suitcases.

I did buy a TravelPro Platinum® Elite Slim Backpack to use as my “personal item”, because it was on sale and exactly the right size (40 x 30 x 15 cm), to go under a seat. This was after measuring every one of the backpacks I still had in the house and finding out that all of them were slightly too big. The TravelPro was big enough to take my CPAP and my meds as well as my laptop and charger, so it worked out. It would have been perfect except that one strap was always slipping off my shoulder.

TransAvia, as it turned out, does not know how to treat invisibly-disabled people, and neither does the Palma de Mallorca airport. Also the rows on the planes were very close together. If there’s a next time we’ll go by air (in greater comfort) or train to Barcelona and take the ferry from there. (The overnight ferry between Harwich and Hoek van Holland was another item on my bucket list, but I had forgotten about putting it there by the time I actually took that trip earlier in the year. I probably put it there knowing it would be an easy one to hit. It was, and a very pleasant one.)

There

The hotel was mostly wonderful. We’d gotten a “junior suite, sea view”, with a double bed and a rollaway, a balcony (which we didn’t use much) and a gloriously huge whirlpool bathtub. The shower was somewhat less glorious; instead of having a hand-held “telephone” showerhead on a hose, it had several small showerheads squirting horizontally at different levels, along with an overhead “rain” showerhead. The key cards appeared to be made of wood; a closer inspection showed that they were laminated bamboo, which I would say counts even if it is technically a grass.

I note that the hotel is adults only, and explicitly caters to couples. The bathtub is separated from the sleeping area only by a low pony wall that’s fine for setting drinks and plates on, but affords no privacy whatever. Not that we cared, but I imagine some people might. It’s accessible, but the elevators are small enough that larger scooters, like the one we rented for Wednesday wouldn’t be able to turn around and might not even fit. The one we rented was for outdoors only; fortunately that was all we needed.

The hotel is built on the side of a steep hill; the entrance is on the fourth floor. We’d gotten our room with the breakfast and dinner plan; both were served buffet style. The breakfast buffet was pretty good, but not as good as the Shin-Yokahama Prince in Japan, or Salty’s Sunday brunch in West Seattle. Dinner was very good. The main dishes and some of the sides were different every night, although there were some constants including bread, salad components, and fruit. And pizza, but I didn’t fly to Mallorca to eat pizza.

We found out after we got there that we hadn’t done quite enough research — although the had suites with an “sea view”, that didn’t give a clear view of the western horizon. The view was beautiful, but faced South across a small bay that opened to the west. To the west of us was another hotel — the Sentido Fido Punta del Mar — that might have been perfect. But we were (barely) close enough to st/roll to a place with a view. I’ll get to that.

We spent much of Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday exploring, looking for good places to watch from. We also got down to a section of Carrer Huguet des Far with shops on both sides of the street, including a couple of small “HiperDino Express” supermarkets where we bought provisions for snacks, and lunch on the days we didn’t want to eat in the hotel. G and I looked for a place to buy an extension cord for my CPAP, because I couldn’t find the long one I’d brought and had cobbled together the cord I’d brought in my “electrical bag” and the longish cord of my CPAP that together were just long enough. The extension cord turned up after the trip in my backpack, where I’d put it in case I had to charge something in the airport. Of course.

Tuesday we walked up past the Sentido etc. to check out a wide but fairly steep set of stairs that we had been told led down to the shore. In fact, they ended in a short but very steep trail. N checked it out, while I sensibly stayed on the bottom step. We could have used it, and in fact the nice British couple who told us about it at breakfast on Monday did use it, while G stood a few meters from the head of the stairs, looking through a handy gap in the trees. It would have been a lot less exhausting.

In the early afternoon, N and I went down to the pool level. I didn’t think my right arm would handle any actual swimming, so I just walked around with only my head above the delightfully warm water. N, of course, is part mermaid. It was a good afternoon. I also went down to check out that little rocky peninsula that, as it turned out, did not have a view of the sunset. But if it had, it would have been a totally miserable place to stand and watch from. The second picture was taken from the farthest point I felt safe walking to.

And then

Wednesday the 12th finally arrived. N and I agreed that the place that would give us the best chance of seeing the eclipse would be the one indicated on the maps the hotel had given us. And in fact that’s how it turned out. We’d come all that way, and wanted the best possible chance to see it.

The “official” designated viewing spot was on the beach (there’s a book title in there someplace), the Playa de Santa Ponça, about two kilometers from the hotel. There was a time in my life when that would have been an easy walk. Naomi had very sensibly rented a mobility scooter the day before, which we took turns on (see St/rolling), and I had packed along my chair-cane, which proved to be a life saver (or at least quality of life saver) both on the walk and on the beach.

We had no idea how crowded the beach was going to be, and neither did anyone else, so when we saw people starting to arrive we headed out at about half-past noon. The section of the trip closest to the hotel was on a sidewalk that was mostly wide enough for the scooter, but interrupted by trees and a few other obstacles. We scooted around them on the road, which was narrow but had little traffic. The trip to the beach was mostly down-hill.

When we got to the beach, we found a nice spot at the water’s edge, on the end of the beach nearest the hotel. We could have left hours later, as it turned out. But we didn’t know that at the time. A chair-cane is not particularly comfortable for long sits.

A nice man came by and gave us a parasol. (Perhaps he was on his way to a shadier spot.) It probably came from the little shop across the street from the beach. I went there to get some provisions and a child’s beach kit with a shovel and rake, which we needed to dig a hole for the parasol. I also got some change, because I had discovered on the way that I needed a one-Euro coin for the toilets behind the information building on the way.

Having taken advantage of the toilet to take off my compression socks, I waded in about up to my knees. The bottom was pebbles rather than sand; it hurt my feet and I felt unstable. But I got my feet wet in the Mediterranean Sea, for the first and possibly last time. Looking back toward our towel I realized that we would probably get a better view from further back, because it would put us a meter or two higher. Besides, there were trees for shade, and a shower with cold fresh water. We moved.

Naomi did a little more research, and concluded that the seeing would be better at the other (South) end, a few hundred meters away. Besides, that was where the official map said it would be. (The map was put out by the local government, which was treating the whole event as a potential emergency. The hotel brought a copy to our room, along with three pairs of eclipse glasses.) We found a spot on the stone wall that ran along the back of the beach area, with a wooded hill behind it, and “reserved” it by putting down our beach towel. There were lots of people all along the way setting up cameras, telescopes, and so on, which suggested that we were in the right place. We were.

A few minutes before the start of the eclipse, we gathered up our things and made our way the short distance down the hill to sit on the wall. The sun was behind the lower branches of a tree when the eclipse started at 19:38, but cleared them a little way into the partial phase, when the sun looked like a very fat crescent. I took a photo, which didn’t come out well, and then on a whim a selfie. Complete with eclipse glasses.

When the sun had shrunk down to a skinny crescent it started getting noticeably darker, and people started cheering. The sun shrank to a sliver, and then to a tiny red jewel. (It’s called the diamond ring effect, but that close to sunset it was more like a ruby, and gorgeous.) We took off our glasses, and there it was!! It lasted for about a minute and a half, starting at 20:31.

It is kind of Amazing just how amazing a fuzzy little circle of light can be. I fumbled with my phone trying to take a picture, failed, gave up, and just gazed at it. A minute and a half later we put our glasses back on and were treated to another ruby ring. We watched for a few minutes more, until the sun went behind the headland on the other side on the bay.

I found out later that my phone fumbling had somehow managed to capture a few seconds of video during totality. I was disappointed at first, but very happy about it now–it perfectly captures the beach party mood of the occasion. Naomi got several very good pictures of the corona.

And back again

We abandoned the parasol, leaving it where someone else could find it, and started the long up-hill trudge back to the hotel. Knowing we’d miss the hotel’s dinner buffet, we stopped in a McDonald’s that we’d seen on the way. We were both exhausted by the time we got back. So it was what a hobbit would have considered an adventure: uncomfortable, and made us late for dinner. Not nasty, though. And absolutely worth it.

Thursday morning there was an article in the local newspaper accompanied by a gallery of photos from their readers.

We had booked massages in the spa downstairs. This was billed as a “signature balearic aromas massage”:

A revitalising full-body massage using sweet almond oil enriched with Mediterranean aromas that evoke the essence of the Balearic Islands. It hydrates and tones, leaving a natural feeling of freshness

I went first, and made the mistake of checking the box for “cancer” on the intake form. Apparently I should have had a note from my doctor? It took me about 20 minutes to assure them that it was in remission after having been treated over two years before. It was very relaxing, but not as therapeutic for my shoulder as I had hoped. I’d mentioned that on the intake form too, and I think the therapist avoided the tight muscles rather than trying to treat them. I’m spoiled by having a (formerly) licensed massage therapist in the family.

Friday evening we had dinner in the hotel’s teppanyaki restaurant, which was downstairs across the hallway from the spa. Tasty, but not as much of a show as I remember from the ones in the Bay Area. It did include a grilled-onion volcano, though.

Saturday we flew back home. Getting through the airport was an ordeal. Despite having ordered wheelchairs for the three of us, we didn’t get them. After spending most of an hour waiting in front of the “assistance” desk, we realized that we weren’t going to get them, and went to stand in line at the check-in counter. Which stretched most of the way across the terminal. It wasn’t until we were almost all the way to the counter that they opened a second station. After checking our bags we trudged through security and over to the gate. Of course there wasn’t a jetway, but there was the usual something-like-a-bus/something-like-a-lift to trundle us over the tarmac to the plane, and lift us up to the door. At least we didn’t need to use the stairs.

Rotterdam was a pleasant surprise. There were people with wheelchairs waiting for us when we got off the lift/bus. Well, two people — we had to wait for the third, but they stayed with us and we had a good conversation to pass the time. It was so much better than Palma that we didn’t mind the wait. A delightful airport to come home to, smaller than Schiphol, but friendlier. And closer to home.

Other accounts

My post on Dreamwidth, from which much of this post was shamelessly copied.

Everywhere I Look — Naomi’s account in her author’s blog. It’s partly about the trip and partly about how it felt from the viewpoint of an author who had just finished writing a book, Paleomythic, in which the Mediterranean Sea is a character. (You’ll have to wait until next summer to read it.)

I’m sorry this post took me so long to write.