Where were you on August 11, 1999? It's not a particularly memorable date, but anyone who was around back then may recall spending part of that summer's day staring at the sky wearing funny little sunglasses, waiting for something to happen.

A total solar eclipse was on its way - the first one visible in the UK since 1927 - and the hype was huge. Excitement mounted for weeks; bombarded with beautiful images of the moon passing between Earth and the sun, blocking the sunlight, we were swept away on flimsy promises of day turning into night. And because of repeated warnings about the risk of blindness, we dutifully bought special sunglasses for the occasion.

By the time the day arrived, a cloud of anti-climax was already hanging in the air. Boffins who'd been shouting from the rooftops about how amazing it was all going to be had suddenly gone a bit low key, muttering something about clouds. Fever pitch excitement had turned to a nagging sense that perhaps day wouldn't be turning to night after all.

The general consensus seemed to be that the eclipse would only be visible in Cornwall so thousands of people flocked there, armed with picnics.

I was about 250 miles away, in the East Midlands. I was a newspaper reporter covering a rural patch, working from a poky little office above a corner shop. As the eclipse drew nearer I joined the shop girls outside, by the wheelie bins at the back. We put on our solar glasses, looking like the audience of a 1950s 3D movie, and waited. Nothing happened. It didn't even go a bit cloudy. Someone started humming Bonnie Tyler's Total Eclipse of the Heart, then we all got a bit restless, and soon the moment had passed.

Watching it on the TV news that evening, I felt maybe I'd missed out on a once-in-a-lifetime experience that only people guzzling fizz on picnic rugs in Land's End had come close to. But even in Cornwall the daylight didn't exactly turn to darkness. It felt like we'd all been duped.

So forgive me if I don't manage to rustle up any enthusiasm for this Friday’s solar eclipse. I admire the optimism of sky-watchers who'll be out in force, and I guess it's exciting for youngsters witnessing their first eclipse, but you won't find me staring upwards wearing daft-looking solar shades.

We're already being warned that it might be overshadowed by cloud. Where have I heard that before? Oh yes, just before the total anti-climax, sorry, eclipse, of 1999.

That feels like another age - of corner shops, Bonnie Tyler and rural newspapers. All three will be long gone by the time the next total eclipse comes round.