I was trapped in Spanish underground during massive power outage and it had hallmarks of a zombie apocalypse

It was eerily quiet. A religious day across Spain, with most schools shut and businesses closed apart from those serving and catering to food, drink and tourists, train travellers were strangely absent that day. Many Spaniards had been up early taking part in the Roman Catholic festivities and had retired for a traditional siesta. My husband and I had seen women, dressed in traditional white finery with trainers peeping underneath, shepherding excited young children home for a nap amid crowds of tourists headed to the drained river park at the beating heart of the city.

Down in our dim, sheltered, platform we watched as the digital display boards, previously announcing our train was due in one minute, turn back on then faltered. They flickered conflicting messages - our train was now due in nine minutes, we should check the front of the train for it’s destination - then nothing. Alone on the platform, with just one other traveller looking at us baffled across the tracks - we just blamed the trains and waited.

With no internet signal or phone signal we had no idea what was happening on the surface and all was calm. Later, I wondered about that missing train. With just one minute to go - was it stuck in the tunnel with passengers aboard? In fact thousand of passengers had to be led off stranded trains across Europe that day.

Still, we waited, Moments later our fellow passenger threw his hands on the air and spoke rapidly in Spanish before vanishing up the stairs. But we’d just bought our return tickets and were reluctant to give the journey up - there were worse places to sit and wait than this modern and airy underground station out of the spring midday sun. Yet 20 minutes later, nobody had joined us the platform and it was then the police arrived.

The two burly and armed officers barrelled down the silent, still, escalators, shouting and gesticulating loudly - spotting us there alone one came and jabbered at us in rapid Spanish we had little hope of comprehending. After 10 minutes we came to an understanding, ‘No trains’. We were shepherded back up through the silent station, up several flights of stairs and I was reprimanded for attempting to film. When we blinked into the bright sunshine in the heart of Valencia once more, it was clear trains were the least of the problem. There was a glitch in the matrix.

Luckily no Zombies. But it was spookily similar to the start of any apocalyptic film - mainly because of the calm before the storm in the relatively quiet streets, sunlit, streets. It was a slow realisation and the city was grinding to a halt gradually.

The first thing we noticed was the traffic lights. The city of Valencia is a buzzing metropolis with vast, carefully thought out multiple lane road arteries through its wide and busy streets, echoed by cycle lanes alongside with cyclists and electric scooter users - many young people, rattling past at eye watering speed. It was both terrifying and yet highly organised, until now. Instead pedestrians and cars played chicken within strange calm - a battle of of wills.

Despite the chaos, it felt quiet - with no electronic bleeping - the only sounds was confused humans jabbering at their phones as power levels waned . The internet took longer to vanish, but it went, and the sounds of phones ringing and texts arriving was replaced by the low buzz of helicopters, the squealing of brakes, and the increasingly regular cacophony of ambulances, fire engines. As the penny dropped, and via some inexplicable still functioning 5G zones, we realised this was not just any power cut - instead a blackout not just across Valencia but several countries. The word terror was on everyone’s lips.

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Still, with my father living in the Spanish countryside I knew power cuts were not a rarity, and I was cautiously optimistic it would be back soon. So we decided to continue on foot to our destination, the massive Oceanagrafic aquarium. But as we approached the remarkable avant-garde construction glinting away in the sunshine, it was clear all was not well as tourists poured out of its watery confines. I’m very glad I was not in the longest underwater tunnel in Europe with the sharks when the power went out - although I’m sure there was a generator.

Meanwhile the restaurants and bars battled on - most serving increasingly warm wine and beer with wilting tapas as the fridges heated up - all served up from the dark interiors of light-free kitchens. But the digital matrix was starting to fall apart - no power meant no charging, with no electricity no phone or card payments. Slowly, Spain was reverting to a cash society. The other ramifications of power loss were becoming clear as firefighters were deployed to rescue people from lifts and many apartment dwellers locked out of their buildings.

Although we weren’t aware at the time, a state of emergency had been declared across Spain, and the central government took over. Local police were immediately deployed out into the streets, using whistles and hand gestures to manage increasingly confused traffic with remarkable confidence and authority.

We were lucky - no-one ever closed the door properly at the entrance to our rented apartment’s main entrance hall. Still, you had to climb six storeys in the sweaty, pitch black, dark to to get there with the lift no longer functioning. As evening fell and with no cooking facilities or cash to pay for restaurants on what was supposed to be the final day of our trip, reality soon kicked in.

It’s a strange feeling - that of modern existentialism. How would we possibly cope if the power went down -permanently? No phones, no kettles, no ovens, no modern convenience and no contact with the rest of the world. Our flight was the next day - but we had no way to check. Our boarding cards were on our phones, but we had no way to charge them. Our newsdesk would have enjoyed a live update on the story from Spain but I had no way of sharing. I was worried about my dad in rural Spain, cut off, and couldn’t speak to my brother, my sister.

No, it wasn’t life threatening, instead a microcosm of the same issues across three countries and societies, and a worrying sign for the future of our species. Packing my suitcase by candlelight hadn’t been on my holiday bucket list. But, one cancelled flight and one day later I was home so it was a tiny wrinkle in my digital life. But it did make me think - and I certainly won’t be travelling without cash again.

Experts have not reached any conclusions about what caused the major power outage on April 28. It brought Spain and Portugal to a standstill for approx 24 hours depending on region with planes grounded, hospital operations suspended, and public transport halted. Causes being explored includes a reliance on renewable energy, solar flares, nuclear plant closures and even terrorism - though the latter is considered unlikely.

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