Chasing the 2026 Total Solar Eclipse in Spain
The total solar eclipse of 2026 only lasted 1 minute and 45 seconds.
Yet millions of totality-heads from all over the globe flocked to Spain just for the chance to see something that truly feels like you’re on another planet. Something that takes months to plan, luck to witness, and dedication to put yourself in position.
Since the eclipse is never guaranteed, my group and I had plenty of other things planned in case something went awry.
Exploring Cudillero in Asturias
I start my eclipse chases with perhaps the most important choice. Location. Specifically, staying within the path of totality. Traffic is a nightmare during an eclipse. The millions of people I mentioned earlier are all trying to cram into the same narrow swath of land. The cities and popular viewpoints get choked with people. The remote areas have few roads and limited parking.
I grabbed an absolutely beautiful chalet near the city of Cudillero after agonizing over shade maps, cloud forecasts, infrastructure, and a host of other variables. When we stepped into Gabriel’s home, I knew we made the right choice. The home itself was gorgeous. At the first step inside, we were greeted with afternoon light streaming through a picture window, overlooking a valley.
That evening we explored the Austrian Coast. We visited Playa de Silencio and Cabo Vidio lighthouse. On top of the breathtaking views over the Bay of Biscay, blackberry bushes grew along many of the paths and my group helped themselves to the ripe snacks as we walked, the waves crashing below and the salt air filling out nostrils.
The following morning, the trip began in earnest. Cudillero is like a mini-Positano, Italy. A tiny fishing village clinging to seaside cliffs. The colored houses and roofs overlook the ocean. It took us nearly two hours just to make it into town. Every alley had a unique view to take in. The locals hanging their laundry out to dry and the cats lounging in the sun gave us a glimpse into a simple life. And getting lost was a feature, not a bug.
Our group split up briefly so some of us could hike up to the tower overlooking town, while others discovered some sunny balconies above the town square. After a quick lunch of bocadillios (sandwiches), we took a stroll along the seaside path to Cudillero’s own lighthouse. The afternoon sun beat down. When I asked “Who’s ready for ice cream?”, the answer was unanimous.
Our next activity was a boat tour that took us to the base of the towering cliffs Cabo Video sat on. Our captain told us all about how the locals make their living collecting barnacles and sea life while getting pounded by waves on the rocks. We nosed the boat into several sea caves, including one of the largest on the Asturias coast. The return trip, we looked for dolphins. When they didn’t show up, we did a few 180s and 360s in the boat while the wind whipped through our hair.
After a dinner of fresh monkfish, sea bass, and scallops, we were ready to regroup and recover.
Discovering Picos De Europa
This day was our earliest day. We had a bus to catch. Picos de Europa is a dramatic mountain landscape in Asturias, and the only way to get up there during the high season is the bus. As the trees fell away and craggy rocks and peaks surrounded the narrow road, it felt like we were escaping to a place as dramatic as the Swiss Alps. Giant vultures and raptors perched on several of the peaks we glimpsed on the way around hairpin turns.
Once there, we made for Lakes of Covadonga, two alpine lakes nestled between the peaks of Picos de Europa. The trail there winds through old mines and buildings. As we neared the top, dozens and then hundreds of cows grazed along the slopes, all the cowbells jangling to create a soundtrack that wasn’t unlike wind chimes.
Once at Lake Ercina, things slowed down. Instead of grabbing lunch immediately, we sat by the lake and took in the views. Watched the calves and mothers come down to the lake for water. Shook our heads at the people who basically did everything except for hop onto the cows’ backs for a photo opp.
Turns out, waiting for lunch was a smart choice. A table for 7 was ready for us and we enjoyed a hearty Asturias lunch with once of the best views we’d had the whole trip. A couple of us hiked up the short ridge to see Lake Erol and snap some pictures of Covadonga Lakes from above.
The hike down was much easier, and we had the parking lot to ourselves. Our reward was dozens of vultures flying past on what must have been their daily migration. Some stopped to circle and catch rising air right above us. Even from far away, it was easy to tell how massive these scavengers were.
But boarding the bus was pretty chaotic. Hundreds of people swarmed the parking lot as a dozen buses all arrived at the same time. Still, we made it home and enjoyed some gas station ice cream along the way.
Back at home base, we shifted into eclipse mode. We double checked gear. Did a test setup. Practiced some astrophotography. If luck had anything to do with it, we’d be able to see the eclipse from the back door.
Eclipse Day is here
I designed this day to be 100% focused on the eclipse. In the morning, the first thing I said was that we were going to try and do as little as possible during the eclipse. Ideally, all you should have to do is press the shutter to get the one shot you care most about.
Then I proceeded to spend 4 hours telling the group all the things they needed to do to make that simplicity possible.
Focus on getting one shot, and not trying to get all the shots. Setting your tripod up so you don’t have to bend down or stand up. Locking in your settings and knowing what you need to change between partial eclipse and totality. Doing that switch 5 minutes before totality so you’re not scrambling. And on and on.
Even though today was about the eclipse, we still had something special planned. A private lunch provided by Michelin Guide Lara Roguez, whose restaurant Abarike won 2022 Best Restaurant in Spain. She arrived by herself with everything she needed, and only a half hour until the starters hit the table. She was gracious enough to let us chat and take photos of her while she worked. That she was able to create such a delicious meal in a strange kitchen for 7 people by herself was every bit, if not more impressive, than the meal itself. Fresh seafood, local ingredients, beautiful plating all had us with full bellies and completely enamored with the incredible menu she’d provided.
Lunch finished, and it was time to shift into eclipse mode.
It was the latest possible moment to answer a simple question. Would we have clear skies or not.
It was 1pm, and I’d just made the call to change locations.
Up until sunrise, all the forecasts had pointed to clear skies in Cudillero. But the Bay of Biscay had other ideas, and low lying clouds spawned above the northern coast. By the early afternoon, it was clear the sun wouldn’t burn them away. We’d have to move.
I checked the backup locations and found the closest possible spot with a route that would have us avoid traffic. My group packed up tripods and cameras, filled the car with water and snacks, and checked for a full tank of gas. We didn’t know when we’d be back.
Chasing Clear Skies Across Northern Spain
An hour south, convective clouds were starting to form in the scorching summer sun. The first backup location had layered clouds on the western horizon for totality that’d peak an hour before sunset. No good, we’d have to keep going south to another backup location. Too many clouds there too. Now we were off-script, and I checked a satellite map for a promising patch of land that had no houses on it.
Private property. I pulled off to the side of the road with a shade map, satellite imagery, and Photographer’s Ephemeris to try and triangulate a place better than the first backup location on nothing more than the weak cell signal I had. 5 minutes up the road, something looked possible. It was 5pm, and if this spot didn’t work out, we’d have to take our chances back at my original backup plan an hour away and hope for a break in the clouds.
We crested the hilltop village of Valbueno, and found an open patch with some fellow eclipse chasers already parked. I hopped out of the van and looked at the path of sunset. It’d be above the mountains. We had enough distance from the clouds that only the tops seemed to flirt with totality.
I told my group this was probably the best chance I could give them, and we rapidly set up gear and tripods. First contact came faster than we all anticipated. I told my photographers to try not to stress out too much. We’d given up our practice runs in the afternoon for the opportunity to see totality. If we got it with our eyes, that’d be a win.
First Contact: Preparing to Photograph Totality
Once 1st contact hit, excitement started to build. More people showed up. Things got darker, and shadows got weird. A half hour from totality, I noticed there was a particularly tall cloud on a collision course with the path of the sun. I kept watching the two converge, and I knew there was a strong chance this cloud would ruin totality.
10 minutes out, cloud or not, and it was go time. I called out instructions to my group. At 5 minutes before second contact, they took their last shot of the partial eclipse for their composites and dialed in their settings for totality. They positioned the sun in frame so they wouldn’t need to readjust as it moved for the next 10 minutes. No one would move from their tripod until third contact.
Two Minutes of Totality
Just before 2nd contact, the sun emerged from the right side of a U-shaped clearing in the top of the cloud. The shooting began. The first shot appeared on my viewfinder and I could see just the right exposure for an early diamond ring shot. As more of the sun was covered, it would dim and give all of us a range of gemstone sized beads of light to choose from. “Keep shooting! Keep shooting!” I yelled, and then the sun’s disc was fully covered.
A diamond flower appeared in the sky. Totality.
“Glasses off and look at THAT!” I yelled, and the entire crowd on the hilltop gasped and cheered.
The next two minutes felt like ten seconds as we shot photo after photo at different shutter speeds to capture the full spectrum of the sun’s corona. I called out the settings for the 2nd diamond ring as the end fast approached. As that bead of sunlight grew and grew while the sun re-emerged, clouds on the left side of that U-shaped clearing encroached on the sun.
“Filters on!” I cried after 30 seconds, and the cloud completely swallowed the sun, blocking it out.
Two minutes later, and we’d have completely missed it.
Leaving Spain for Home
After the eclipse, our drive back over the mountains to avoid the main highway gave us the reward of not seeing more than a dozen or so cars for two hours. It was a winding road and took us longer than the highway, but we heard reports of a car catching fire on the highway and traffic snarling for longer than that.
Everyone was still buzzing from what we’d witnessed. And since Lara was supposed to do dinner for us as well, she simply made it all and left it waiting for us when we returned. A midnight snack of Lobster Rice isn’t too bad a reward for a successful day of eclipse chasing.
The drive back to Madrid went too fast. Not every group I lead hugs at the end, but this one did. They were in good spirits the whole time, didn’t complain, and were up for anything. After totality the day before, I took a moment with each of them, and I could tell each of them was moved by what they just saw. That’s my favorite part of these trips. Helping people cross something off their bucket list.
Seeing it alone is special, for sure. But some of my favorite moments come when they’re shared with family or friends or guests on my trip that quickly become friends.
Visit New Zealand to see the 2028 Eclipse or get on my 2027 Spain solar eclipse guided trip waitlist