🎉 A Party on the Precipice of Apocalypse

What it was like to live through a half-day power and data outage in Spain

On Monday, April 28th, around 12:30, I was working and wondering why a Spanish friend left me on read in a text conversation. Then I noticed a webpage wouldn’t load. And my laptop wasn’t charging. The washing machine stopped sloshing.

“We must have had a power cut,” I thought. “I’ll just use my phone as a wifi hotspot.” Nope. Mobile data service was down too.

My husband came out of his office to troubleshoot the router. We commented on how weird it was that power and mobile data were out at the same time. Electricity is wired underground in Madrid. Maybe the power was cut at a construction site? We debated eating room-temperature leftovers for lunch. I decided to go to my driving school early and grab a bite to eat before my lesson.

It’s Just Our Neighborhood… Right?

I headed down the stairs (the elevator wasn’t working) and ran into my neighbors. I told them my plan, and they told me: “This outage is all over Spain and Portugal—maybe other countries too.” They heard the news on the radio.

That stunned me. How could an electricity and data blackout happen on such a large scale? Trying not to conclude the worst and instead gather facts, I unlocked the street-level door with a key (the electric buzzer wasn’t working) and headed to the Metro. A few steps later, I stopped in my tracks, realizing that the Metro runs on electricity.

I looked around at people on the sidewalk. They were looking at their unresponsive phones in disbelief. They were talking to each other, unable to call or text anyone else. They repeated the same words my neighbor told me. It was spooky.

I tried to call my husband to tell him, but the call wouldn’t go through. So I turned around and walked up the stairs to our apartment. Catching my breath, I told him: “The outages are across the whole Iberian Peninsula. Maybe other countries, too. I just tried to call you and couldn’t get through. This is serious.”

Elder Millennial Feels Scared and Smug

Drawing on our pre-Internet life skills, we planned to make it to our commitments in the city. We agreed to be home by 18:00. Each destination was within an hour’s walking distance. I proudly navigated which bus I needed to catch without using Google Maps. Everyone else had the same idea. The bus was slow and crowded with would-be Metro passengers and no working traffic lights.

I arrived at my driving school and was told my class was canceled. I tried to lighten the mood with a joke: “Are you sure? It could be authentic practice!” to which my teacher shook his head and said: “I just spent 26 minutes trying to get through that intersection.” He pointed towards an intersection at Avenida de América, which usually takes three or four minutes to get through when controlled by traffic lights. Now it was full of people, cars, and traffic agents blowing whistles and gesturing wildly.

I walked home. Under normal conditions, Madrid’s sidewalks are plagued with pedestrians who don’t follow right-of-way rules. The outage amplified the chaos, adding more players to the game of Pedestrian Chicken.

On the way home, I passed an auto mechanic shop and realized they were gathered around a radio. Holy crow, news! I would have enjoyed the timeless charm more if the circumstances were different. I was too far away to hear anything.

False Events Appearing Real (FEAR)

My crisis coping style is task-oriented. First, I focus on practicalities, and later, I fall apart. When I got home, the fear I pushed aside asked to be let out:

• This is scary.

• It could be an innocuous coincidence.

• It could be a catastrophic weather event.

• It could be an infrastructure collapse.

• It could be a Russian cyber attack (this was, and is, every Spaniard’s theory).

• What do my friends and family outside of Spain know, if anything?

• How is this being reported?

• First the power was cut, then the internet. What’s next?

I felt all that fear. Then I turned my attention toward facts:

• I’m safe in my peaceful home.

• I’m hungry.

• I have room-temperature pasta de atún (tuna pasta) to eat.

• My husband brilliantly decided to defrost dinner this morning.

• I showered after my morning workout.

• I can do the dishes.

• I have access to fresh and delicious tap water.

• I’m grateful for functional indoor plumbing.

• We have plenty of essentials for now. But we need to make an emergency kit.

• It’s a perfect day to be without power—sunny and pleasantly warm.

• I can catch up on tasks that involve a pen and paper.

• I can read a book.

• I can reorganize my closet.

• Sunset is at 21:10—we’ll have plenty of light for a while.

The radio makes a comeback during the apagón (blackout) | Photo by Leah Pattem, Madrid No Frills

Street Parties, Meet State of Emergency

While Spain declared a state of emergency (unbeknownst to most), Spaniards gathered on the terraces and plazas. Those who weren’t trapped in elevators, stranded at airports, or evacuated from trains embraced the digital disconnection by socializing, singing, and dancing in the balmy spring air.

I watched from my apartment window as life carried on as usual, without digital disruption. People gathered, drinking chilled beer before it got warm, paying for rounds in cash instead of tapping their phones. Conversations flowed without interruption from notification pings.

I admired Spain’s ability to turn an unplanned disaster into an improvised festival. I envied their chill. I counted out my euros (€8,59) and wondered if I could buy a €3,00 copa (drink) or if the economy would still be cash-based in a few days and I’d need that money for groceries. The questions I couldn’t answer prevented me from joining the party.

Not being able to tell my family I was okay was the worst. Everyone in Spain knew their families shared the outage, but I wondered about international reporting. My email telling them “I’m okay” refused to send.

My husband, recovering from a half marathon the day before, was content to stay in and spare his legs from the stairs. We visited our neighbor instead, and while chatting in her living room, a calendar notification popped up on her phone at 21:00, making us jump for joy—before realizing it wasn't a text message.

Indoor Glamping

Before it got dark, we dug out our headlamps, lit candles, and prepared dinner: tortilla de patatas (Spanish potato and egg tortilla), and a selection of meats, cheeses, veggies, sparkling water, and wine that we strategically grabbed from the fridge in one fell swoop.

During dinner, some street lights came on. Mobile data service graduated from non-existent to spotty. A few texts came through from friends in Spain. My husband called my mom on a whim and managed to get through to her. I rudely cut off their niceties and spat out the message I’d wanted to say for 10 hours:

“Hi. Spain and other countries have been in a power and data outage all day, but we’re okay.”

To which my mother said: “Oh, I had no idea!”

See where worrying will get you, folks? Uninvited to a let’s-make-the-best-of-things party, by your own doing! If I ever again have a choice between wringing my hands or suspending my worries with a tinto de verano, I hope I’ll choose the latter.

We did the dishes, brushed our teeth, plugged our devices into dead chargers, and went to bed. Ten minutes later, we heard the refrigerator come on at 11:15, and cheers and clapping erupted as electricity came back on.

We Still Don’t Know

The cause remains mysterious—official explanations are giving way to political finger-pointing. How such extensive systems could fail simultaneously for nearly 12 hours across the Iberian Peninsula, Andorra, and southern France, will hopefully be revealed soon.

While I have a lot to learn from Spaniards about how to turn my fear into fiesta, it feels good to live in a society where people stay calm, do what they can to help, and celebrate in a way that makes a bad situation better.