Where To See the Solar Eclipse in France on August 12th and What You Need To Know

My neighbor Simon and my husband are very excited about the solar eclipse in France this week. They even got me hunting for special glasses so they can look at the whole thing without damaging their eyes. They’re like two excited little boys. 

Believe it or not, when I went looking for the glasses, they were sold out everywhere this weekend, so it was over to good old Amazon to help me out. And they didn’t let me down. Said glasses will arrive Wednesday morning in time for the evening’s event.

Our commune is just as excited and is putting on a little soiree, where, in typical French fashion, there’ll be food and wine to enjoy as we sit down to watch this little spectacle. And of course, where there is wine, I’m happy to be.

What’s Actually Happening on August 12th

The moon is going to pass in front of the sun on Wednesday evening, and depending on where you’re standing in Europe, you’ll see anything from a modest bite taken out of the sun to something close to totality. 

The path of totality itself, that thin band where the sun disappears completely and day becomes night, runs across northern Spain and the tip of Portugal before crossing the Atlantic. Iceland catches the earlier portion.

France sits just outside that band, which is a source of mild heartbreak for eclipse chasers who have been booking Bilbao and Oviedo for two years. What we do get, though, is a very deep partial eclipse across the whole country.

The south and southwest are getting close enough to totality that the light will drop off dramatically, and the temperature will fall.

NASA has put together an interactive eclipse map that lets you click any point in Europe and see exactly what percentage of the sun will be obscured and when. 

Timeanddate.com also has a well-designed clickable version with local timings. Both are worth bookmarking on your phone before Wednesday, because once the show starts you won’t want to be squinting at a browser.

Where in France You’ll See the Deepest Eclipse

The closer you’re standing to the Spanish border, the more of the sun will disappear. In the far southwest, near Biarritz, Bayonne, and Hendaye, coverage climbs to around 96 percent, which is as close to totality as mainland France gets without crossing the Pyrenees. 

At 96 percent, the sky takes on a strange metallic quality, birds behave oddly, and the temperature can drop by several degrees within minutes.

Moving north and east, the numbers gradually step down: Bordeaux sees around 92 percent coverage, Toulouse about 93, Perpignan around 95, and here in Charente we’ll be looking at something close to 89 percent. 

Even Paris, which is the furthest you can get from the action without leaving the country, will still experience roughly 85 percent coverage, while Lyon is around 87 percent, Nice around 84, and Strasbourg around 82.

If you’re planning a trip specifically for this, my recommendation would be to head for the Basque coast or the western foothills of the Pyrenees. Saint-Jean-de-Luz, Hendaye, and the beaches south of Biarritz will give you an open western horizon, which you’ll want, because the eclipse happens as the sun is already low in the sky. 

How To Watch Safely (This Bit Isn’t Optional)

You can’t look directly at a partial solar eclipse, not even a very deep one, and not even when the sun is low and looks tolerable to your eye. Regular sunglasses don’t work. Neither does a smoked piece of glass, a CD, a piece of exposed film, or any of the other clever ideas the internet reliably serves up before every eclipse. 

The only safe way to look at the sun during the partial phase is through ISO 12312-2-certified eclipse glasses or through a properly filtered telescope or camera.

Eclipse glasses are cheap; they’re widely available at French opticians, pharmacies, and observatories in the run-up to Wednesday, and they’ve been showing up in the checkout aisles of the bigger supermarkets in the southwest for a couple of weeks.

 Look for the ISO number printed on the arm. If it isn’t there, put them back. If you’re watching with kids, keep the glasses on their faces before they look up and off; only after they’ve looked away, swap in a pinhole projector for the little ones who won’t leave the glasses alone.

A pinhole projector, by the way, is the easiest science experiment you’ll ever run, and I remember doing these when I was a kid. Punch a small hole in a piece of card, stand with your back to the sun, and hold the card so the light falls through the hole onto a second piece of card or a wall behind you. 

You’ll see a projected image of the eclipsed sun, crescent-shaped and moving, without any risk to your eyes. Under a leafy tree, you’ll see the same crescents scattered across the ground where the gaps between the leaves are doing the same job as your pinhole. 

How the French Are Watching

Observatories and planetariums across France are running organized viewing events, and if you’re near one, it’s worth checking their programs. The Cite de l’Espace in Toulouse, the Observatoire de Paris, and the Observatoire de la Cote d’Azur all have eclipse evenings, most with supervised solar telescopes, guided commentary, and glasses handed out on arrival. 

Closer to the ground, expect the local astronomy clubs to be out in force. In villages across the south and southwest, communes are opening up school playgrounds, church squares, and vineyard terraces for informal viewing. 

Ask at your mairie or your local tourist office if you’re staying in a small town, because the events that don’t make the national press are often the best ones with plenty of wine and cheese.

Our own gathering is doing what French gatherings always do: everyone brings a plate, someone brings pastis, and there will be too much rosé, which is the natural order of a summer evening in Charente.