Not seeing the eclipse is for the poor

The first person I heard talk about the eclipse was my friend Laura, who is as likely to warn you that you're entering retrograde Uranus as she is to tell you, in January 2025, the exact spot where she'll go to watch the eclipse. Knowing her, she's probably already chosen months ago the book she'll bring to kill time in the Serra and has analyzed which is the most comfortable – and at the same time most economical – beach mat model to lie on and wait.

I took it for granted that the rich would book the best hotels, the best restaurants, and would have a privileged spot from which to watch the sky, but she's indignant about the Administration's preventative measures. "I didn't think they'd forbid me everything." But politicians know that Mazón's shadow is long, and it's better to err on the side of caution than to fall short. Thus, the options for contemplating the eclipse are reduced. And it's no secret that we never want something more than when we're told we can't have it.

The total eclipse is exceptional, but you can't just stick your head out the balcony to contemplate it. A Mallorca packed with tourists will be divided between those who will ignore it, those who will watch it from the wrong place and end up disappointed, and those who, like Laura, will take it as if they were contestants in The Squid Game. We'll have to see how the percentages are distributed.

The last time Mallorca experienced a similar astronomical phenomenon was 121 years ago. The island then had just 250,000 inhabitants. It was eminently agricultural. Scientists from half of Europe arrived with telescopes, cameras, and observation instruments. The authorities made it easy for them: they exempted them from customs duties, asked factories to stop emitting smoke so as not to cloud the sky, and invited them to dinner after the spectacle. Today's Mallorca has one million inhabitants, plus another half a million tourists who will join them these days, but the discussion is no longer about where to place the telescope, but where to park the car. Or how to get there on time if everything is blocked during working hours. The scientists of 1905 are the tourists of 2026.

Laura has asked for the day off and will leave home at dawn, fearful of how many like her will have had the same idea. I'll settle for her to tell me about the feat later, to live it through her experience. She insists: "Not seeing the eclipse is for the poor." From the beginning, all this was about a class issue.