"It is what it is" has become our mantra when traveling on vacation. No matter how much planning we do regarding modes of transportation or reservations for dinner or tickets to events, we can only do so much. After that, fate will do with us what it will. And in the interest of trying to enjoy the experience, we try not to get too caught up when things don't go as planned.
That meant that on our most recent trip to Andalusia we rolled with a closed restaurant where we had a confirmed reservation, as well as a cancelled train we had to reschedule, both with a minimum of fuss. Admittedly we (and read that as "me") are not always so sanguine. When both foot entrances we tried to the Alhambra palace in Granada were closed due to high winds, and we had to summon an Uber and race to another lest we lose our tour slot procured 3 months in advance, I stood on the sidewalk howling at the universe. It was not pretty.
Nowhere is this mantra more appropriate than with the weather. For most of us, we plan vacation or holiday trips fairly far in advance, As such we have only a general sense of what the weather might be when we finally arrive: it's summer or winter, the rainy season or dry. But regardless of what the historical record might be, the story might be totally different when we finally step off the plane. In southern Spain at this time of year it was supposed to be mid 50's and 60's with a little rain mixed in. It was our misfortune for it be a bit colder and wetter, so much so that the locals were as surprised as us. Thankfully we were prepared, with rain jackets, umbrellas and waterproof shoes. The result is that we didn't need to change any of our plans in a major way, other than to sit out a short cloudburst with an extra glass of wine. It is what it is.
Turns out, however, there was another storm happening we didn't even know about. The weather we're all familiar with is of the terrestrial variety, i.e. the stuff happening on the surface of this is planet. It seems that there was another whole system scrolling far above our heads, which was in some respects more potentially disruptive than the rain we tried to dodge. According to a post by the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, on January 18 an X1.9-class solar flare erupted, sending a burst of X-rays toward Earth, which was followed by an S4 Severe Solar Radiation Storm, the most intense radiation storm since 2003. The result was that just as we got on the plane to head to Seville a Coronal Mass Ejection (CME) hit Earth's magnetic field much faster than expected, traveling at roughly 1,700 km/s. This triggered a G4 Severe Geomagnetic Storm. Talk about a headwind.
While that didn't soak our shoes or turn our umbrellas inside or out, it might have had other effects that we didn't even realize. These include rerouting flights to avoid high radiation levels for travelers, and satellite noise creating mapping and GPS disruptions. We landed in Seville on time, so have to assume that the airline was able to compensate for it. Indeed, in a similar storm back in November there was a blackout for about an hour on certain radio frequencies, and the Starlink system suffered increased losses as the orbits decayed on some satellites causing them to burn up in the atmosphere. So I guess arriving on time and in the right place was not a given.
All this heavenly activity is on the downside of the so called "Solar Maximum." This 11-year cycle of solar activity peaked in mid-2025. However, scientists say that the two to three years following the maximum are often when the most complex and damaging solar storms occur, as the Sun's magnetic field is currently in the messy process of settling down.
As our world is ever more dependent on electronics, the internet and connectivity, it would seem that going forward we should all take this cycle into account in the same way we check whether we need to take an umbrella. The years 2029-2032 look to be quiet years, while the next peak is projected to be around 2035. So get your heavy ChatGPT usage in now while it's calm, and aim to curl up inside with a good book next decade. The analog kind.
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Marc Wollin of Bedford hates to let rain slow him down. His column appears weekly via email and online on Substack and Blogspot as well as Facebook, LinkedIn and X.
