Early in 2005, my Dad and I decided that as this was probably the last easily accessible eclipse for quite a while, we'd better get ourselves over to Turkey to see it.
We booked ourselves on a trip organised by the Sky at Night magazine and Omega Holidays, to go to Side, on the Turkish Mediterranean coast, right on the eclipse centre line. It was going to be a whistle-stop tour, flying out on the morning of the 28th and then back on the evning of the 29th, straight after the eclipse had finished.
It was a foregone conclusion that I was going to try to get some pictures of the eclipse, and being the greedy person I am, I wanted to get one of everything. Months of trying to decide what equipment to take followed. Going backwards and forwards between a multiple-camera rig and a very minimalist setup. In the end I settled on a single camera and a telephoto zoom lens, so I could get the various shots I wanted by just zooming in and out.
So with kit chosen, it was now just a matter of waiting for March.
Finally the day arrived.
We left a cold and grey Gatwick on the 07:30 flight to Antalya, in Southern Turkey. The weather forecast for Antalya the previous week hadn't looked too good, but as we got within 5 days, the forecast for the 29th was looking quite promising. When we arrived, we were greeted by perfect cloudless skies and a temperature of 22ÂșC - after we'd managed to get through immigration!

Antalya airport

Mountains from the coach on the way to the hotel
We then took a coach along the coast to Side, and the Hotel Ardisia. Once we'd all checked in - all thousand odd of us! - we settled in to the hotel.

Check in!

Hotel Ardisia by day

The Sun going down from the beach
After we'd eaten, we sat down to a very humourous presentation by Chris Lintott and Pete Lawrence from the Sky at Night magazine. They gave us an excellent description of an eclipse, and what we could expect the following morning.

At the Sky at Night presentation
After the presentation we headed out onto the hotel's amphitheater to take a look at the night sky. I was going to try to get some long star trail shots, but we decided to get an early night in preparation for the long day to follow.

Hotel Ardisia by night
Morning arrived, and an anxious look out of our bedroom window revealed another perfect day, with only a few clouds to the north over the mountains. Things were looking good so far.

View to the mountains to the north from the amphitheater
After a good breakfast, we headed down to the amphitheater again, as we'd decided that this was going to be our site to view the eclipse. Our other choice would have been the beach, but the thought of mixing our cameras and all that sand soon put us off that one.

Our chosen viewing site
It was only 08:30 as we started to set up - first contact wasn't due until about 12:40 - but we wanted to have plenty of time to get set.
We met up with some friends in the amphitheater, most of whom I know from the UK AstroImaging forum. As the morning drew on, the excitement and expectation at the prospect of the coming eclipse became palpable.

Dad and I getting set up ready for the day

Chris Lintott doing his best work for The Sky at Night
A couple of people had Hydrogen alpha solar scopes set up, so we were able to get a sneak preview of the prominences that were waiting for us at totality - assuming they lasted that long of course. There were also a couple of small spots on the face of the Sun, which was a welcome relief as they helped hugely in focussing.

A lot of waiting about was going on
It was starting to get quite crowded up on the top of the amphitheater, everyone wanted the best view possible, but there was plenty of space for everyone. The hotel even put out cushions on the steps below us, so that there wouldn't be any numb bums.

Dad getting busy
There were a few wispy clouds out to the west towards Antalya that looked like they might come our way and try to spoil the party for us, but we kept our fingers crossed.

First contact
First contact came at 12:41 local time, with the Moon taking its first nibble out of the Sun's perfect disk. It confirmed once again that the astronomers do know what they're doing, and that the eclipse was really happening.
The Moon appeared to cover the Sun very quickly at first, but then seemed to slow. It seemed to take ages for the Sun to disappear behind the Moon.

Things were starting to happen now
By 15-20 minutes before second contact, it was getting quite noticeably cooler, and the light was starting to get a fair bit dimmer. The excitement was growing, by the minute, and you could feel the tension in the air.

Pinhole mini eclipses
Someone had thought to bring a collinder from home, and projected mini solar crescents with it onto the pale stone surface of the amphitheater, we also made mini pinhole cameras with our almost closed fists.
Suddenly, someone called out "Look! It's Venus!", and there she was shinning very brightly from the darkening sky. I couldn't see Mercury, I was thinking too hard about everything I was going to try to do during totality.

The light had a golden quality
The shadows started to appear soft, and the light changed to an almost moonlit glow, but golden still.
The Sun was rapidly sliding behind the Moon now, and just a slither remained visible. I'm sure I saw shadow bands rippling quickly on the light stone of the amphitheater.
Time seemed to go into high speed now, and things seemed to happen at an awesome pace.

The sudden drop in light level before toality
The light level dropped drastically, though we didn't see the shadow coming. Suddenly there were squeals of delight and shock and wonder at the sight of Bailey's beads as the Sun disappeared behind the final deep valleys of the Moons edge.
I took off the solar filter from the cameras lens and started shooting, trying to keep in mind to watch the spectacle too. I just kept pushing the shutter, to try to get as much as possible.

Second contact - Bailey's beads
All of a sudden the beads were gone, and the beautiful corona sprung into view. Totality had arrived.

The chromosphere just after second contact
There were a couple of small prominences visible to the naked eye, and so much detail in the corona. This is one of those things that really makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up.
Weeks before, I'd planned out exactly what exposures I wanted to take at this moment, and I had them written down on a piece of paper right in front of me. However, in the sheer panic of realising that it was happening here and now, I forgot the plan and just started shooting. Luckily, I had a good enough idea of what I wanted that I wasn't totally lost, but my careful plans all went straight out the window.
The view through the camera's viewfinder was nothing short of spectacular! At 800mm I had a wonderful view of the solar prominences, and the detail in the corona was just astounding, no photograph can ever really do it justice unfortunately. I kept shooting, looking up at the sky, back to the viewfinder, back to the sky, not quite believing what I was seeing.
Suddenly there was a beeping. I'd brought a small stopwatch with me and I'd set an alarm on to go off at mid-totality. Surely it couldn't be halfway gone already! I realised I hadn't taken any of the longer exposures I'd wanted to get, so I zoomed out the camera and checked my focus.

Mid totality - The corona
The corona extended for at least 4 solar diameters, probably more and was absolutely amazing. It looked just as predicted by the fact that we are at solar minimum, with the faint corona streaming from the solar equatorial regions, and the poles with much shorter, finer wisps. I took my long exposures and started to wind them down, shorter and shorter. I zoomed back in, and checked my focus yet again.
I glanced at the horizon, and saw a lovely orange-pink glow all around.
Then with a flash, there was the stunning diamond ring of third contact. Much brighter than second contact. There didn't appear to be the breaking up of the ring into Bailey's beads as there had been at second contact. Click... click... click.

Third contact - The diamond ring
Then it was over. Solar filter back on the camera to take shots of the Moon leaving the Sun.
We sat there in our chairs dumbstruck by what we'd just witnessed. There was a definite feeling of disappointment that it was over. When was the next one?

The aftermath
The light started to rise again, getting back closer to normal. Most people packed away then and headed off, but a few dedicated imagers stayed to get the remaining shots from third to fourth contact. It would have felt like we'd cheated had we not stayed to see it through to the end after such a show.

Fourth contact
So, was I surprised by it? I knew it was coming, I knew exactly what we would see, but somehow it still managed to creep right up on me and do a dance in my brain. Emotional, and without doubt the most awe-inspiring thing I have ever witnessed.
Bring on the next one :D

Antalya tarmac at sunset
My full set of solar images from the eclipse can be found here