Total eclipse plunges Spain’s Segovia into darkness for 59 seconds of wonder (4/4)

There are rare occasions in life when time is seemingly suspended by an extraordinary event, unleashing a whirlwind of emotions that, in the moment, transform us.

The total solar eclipse that covered swaths of Spain late on Wednesday offered one such moment – particularly for the lucky few gathered atop Segovia's majestic Cathedral of the Assumption of the Virgin and San Frutos overlooking the Castile and Leon region's rugged landscape.

Only a handful of people had the privilege of climbing up the 16th-century bell tower, passing through gates and doors that are usually closed to the public at this time of day. And because a view like this must be earned, they climbed the 190 steps leading to the lofty summit on foot.

The 90-metre ascension was a mere formality for Minos, who travelled from Malmö in Sweden with his sister Michelle to witness “the eclipse of a lifetime”.

As the moon began to hide the sun, the astronomy enthusiast eagerly counted down the minutes leading up to totality – the moment when the sun's face is entirely hidden from view. Sweden-based Minos waited for years for a chance to witness the total solar eclipse in Spain.

“Ten to go,” he announced, proudly pulling out a state-of-the-art camera fitted with a solar filter, a gift from their father for this very special occasion.

'Dios mio!'

Like countless other eclipse chasers, the Swedish pair travelled from Madrid through the breathtaking Sierra de Guadarrama mountain range to reach Segovia, known for its iconic Roman aqueduct and majestic Alcazar castle, which is said to have inspired Snow White's castle in the eponymous Disney movie.

Such architectural gems are part of everyday life for locals in the know, who made up the majority of the privileged few gathered at the top of the cathedral. They included Segovian couple Kelly and Yago, who watched the spectacle alongside relatives, strangers and a priest, their eclipse glasses firmly in place and their eyes fixed on the shrinking sun.

At 8:30pm, chiming bells heralded the moment when the moon would completely blot out the sun. “It's Jesus ringing for us!” joked the priest, provoking a general burst of laughter.

“Dios mio… Dios mio!” (My God!) Kelly repeated as darkness and an eerie silence descended on this ancient city, soon giving way to applause from the crowd gathered at the foot of the tower.

Wonder and fear

As the fifty-nine seconds of total eclipse lapsed, it was hard to recall whether the moment had passed quickly or whether every second had been felt as a unique experience. Michelle, from Malmö in Sweden, was glad she chose Spain over Iceland, where thick clouds frustrated visitors who were hoping to witness the total solar eclipse.

It was equally difficult to interpret the passing emotions on people's faces as they gazed at the celestial alignment.

There was shock and awe as the solar corona appeared in all its glory, but also apprehension at the thought of damaging one's eyesight, and the fear of missing even part of a fleeting moment that many will never experience again.

“I'll remember this for the rest of my life,” said Yago as his awestruck partner wiped away the tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. “It's something you can't imagine until you've experienced it,” he added.

Yago spoke of ancient people who would have viewed eclipses as a bad omen or a sign of the gods' wrath, and for whom such experiences were often a source of both thrill and fright.

Science now offers a simple explanation for why the sun briefly disappears. But gazing at a total solar eclipse for 59 seconds, one can only understand the vertigo experienced by our ancestors who once looked up at the sky without knowing whether our star would return.

This article has been translated from the original in French by Benjamin Dodman.