I was on a train back from Madrid to Málaga with my family and another family after a weekend packed with 45,000 people running the Madrid Marathon. The nine of us were finally heading back to Estepona when things started to go sideways.

First came the texts from friends already home in Estepona, three hours away:
“I lost power.”
“Did you lose power too?”

As I’m scanning their chat, the train rolled to a stop. Dead halt. In a dark tunnel. Conductors moved up and down the cars, telling everyone to stay calm in Spanish. But the seasoned travellers were already exchanging looks the longer we waited. There was no power. Something wasn’t right.

After lots of chatter and confusion — the train went dark. In a tunnel. Only the tunnel lights.

No lights. No cell service. No Wi-Fi. Just darkness and the hum of passengers.

We sat in the dark for about 30 minutes. Word spread through the train cars: Spain, Portugal, and France had all lost power. No one knew why.

? The First Roadblock: Trapped Underground

Here’s the kicker: I was supposed to fly home earlier that day. I’d woken up at 3 AM only to realize I’d forgotten my passport. No ID, no flight. Ironically, if I hadn’t forgotten it, I wouldn’t have even been on that train with my family when all this began.

Eventually, the conductors cracked open the train doors for air — it was sweltering inside. We watched as some passengers were climbing out of the train and crossing the tracks to head for a staircase. We grabbed the kids and our luggage and followed.

Just as our feet hit the tracks, a railway worker began screaming at us in Spanish. Later, we realized why: no one knew if another train could come hurtling through at any moment. No power meant no communication among trains. No safety signals. He was terrified for our safety.

? The Second Roadblock: The City That Didn’t Work

We hiked out of the tunnel, climbed a staircase, and emerged blinking into the sunlight — right in the middle of Córdoba. Not stranded in farmland! Not lost on the outskirts! Right in the city. A small victory.

But the second we hit street level, it became clear: the entire city was powerless.

  • Rental car companies? They had cars but their systems were down.
  • Taxis? Refusing long road trips. Traffic lights were out, police were directing traffic, and no one knew when they would be able to get fuel.
  • Hotels? Fully booked. I stood in long lines to be turned away twice.
  • Restaurants? Most were closed for the afternoon siesta but few reopened.
  • ATMs? Dead. Credit cards useless.
  • Cell phones? Intermittently would connect but it was frustrating to say the least.

We stood inside the train station, five kids in tow, heat rising, trying anything we could think of, with no real options.

I finally dragged the crew to the one open restaurant. They were serving cured meat and bread — the only thing that didn’t require cooking. As we all re-fueled, we continued to brainstorm on the best options we had.

? The Third Roadblock: False Hope

A small win: Dillon somehow got enough signal to book two apartments through Expedia.

It was getting late so we navigated Córdoba’s winding old town streets, clinging to any signal we had to use our Google Maps, hauling luggage and kids. We found it!

Victory felt close.

Until it wasn’t.

The apartments were locked. No power. No way to buzz in as they were electric. No way to call. No one was there to let us in.

At this point, it wasn’t just inconvenient. We were each running out of moves. And it hit us:
We’re in real trouble now.

Hours passed. The sun dropped. Our phones edged toward zero percent.

But somehow the four of us all seemed to split up and continue to try to problem solve in the best way we each knew how.

  • George took to the streets, jogging through the city looking for hotels and using blips of cell service to message available Airbnbs. Yup, he chose this approach even after running the Madrid marathon the day prior.
  • Dillon worked his phone relentlessly, trying to find any accommodations still taking bookings. He also started connecting with locals to learn what options were available.
  • Joanna stayed put, waiting at the apartment entrances. She monitored the luggage and also chatted with locals.
  • I corralled the kids at another café which soon ran out of food and stopped accepting additional patrons.

Finally, just when it was getting dark: George landed an Airbnb. Dillon found a hostel and even lined up a second option of a pull-out bed with some kind locals.

My family rallied what little battery we had left to light the way into the Airbnb. We navigated the apartment with no power by candlelight and a little bit of cellphone flashlight. It was dark but alas, they had hot water. I took a shower in the dark.

It was — without exaggeration — the best shower of my life.

? The Fourth Roadblock: The Battle to Get Home

By morning, power flickered back. We made it to the train station — only to find hundreds of stranded passengers who’d spent the night there wrapped in bright red blankets from the Red Cross. Many had been given water and food rations to make it through the night.

The queue to rebook our train was two hours long. We bought new tickets instead. Then rumours swirled that those stranded might be given priority and paid tickets might not be honoured.

We hovered over every decision:
Should we book another hotel just in case?
Should we battle the two-hour line?
What if our plan to buy tickets backfires?

Finally, against all odds, we boarded a train — cheering as we made it home.
26 hours after the blackout began.

? 5 Big Ah-Ha Moments
(a.k.a. what total chaos teaches you)

If you’ve stuck with me this far, you might be thinking, Whew! What a crazy story. But here’s what I learned — and what you can take away, too:

1️⃣ State of mind is everything.
In a crisis, my first instinct was to find food and water for the kids (and maybe wine for myself). Why? Because for me, being in a restaurant with food and wine is a happy place for me. I know that when your state of mind drops, decision-making gets harder. I wrote about this in Too Busy To Be Happy. The faster I can get myself calm and grounded, the better my thinking and decision making will be. Without realizing it, my instincts followed this wisdom. (Progress!)

2️⃣ Lean into your coping style. George’s solution? Run (the day after he ran the Madrid marathon). Literally. He jogged through the city searching for hotels. It helped him focus. Yes, he was sweaty. No, we didn’t complain when he found us a great little apartment.

3️⃣ In a crisis, relationships are gold. The other couple we travelled with? Their instinct was to connect. They made fast friends with locals who soon offered beds, couches, and even homemade soup and bread. Your network is your lifeline.

4️⃣ Different is good. Not everyone needs to mirror each other in tough moments. George ran. I fed the kids. The others socialized and gathered intel. We respected each person’s approach — and because of that, everyone had what they needed. Diversity of thought and action saved us.

5️⃣ Cash is king. Power banks are queen. Passports rule all. Trust me. If your debit card is useless and your phone is dead, these three things can save the day.


✨ Final thought: When everything stops working, you fall back on mindset, adaptability, and the people around you. We didn’t just survive the blackout — we proved we could handle the unpredictable together.

 

 

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