At 1pm this past Monday, after showing a lovely countryside home and property, I popped into the local Lidl to buy one of their cold protein coffees. It was almost lunchtime but I still had at least 35 minutes home in the car.

A man waved at me and said Nop, no power. We are trying to get generators up and running but not yet. I stepped outside puzzled.

My phone buzzed, Sofi, anxious that there was no power in her flat, thought her bill was unpaid. Michelle buzzed me too, asking if our power was out. The panic started to rise.

I called Andrew, once, twice, three times straight to voicemail. I sent messages to Sofi to see if she could talk to him. He did eventually send me messages as I hurried to my car, started it and sped off back home.

While listening to my car radio, I realized that this, was not just Granada province, but all of Spain. My mind went where everyones did at one point during the day, was this an attack? Cyber? Nuclear? And later, Andrew mumbled at one point about a test, and I'm more convinced this was something of that nature.

We had a quiet day rummaging for batteries and candles, worrying when the cell coverage slipped away, and listened to the radio that Andrew rigged up with an old MP3 player and speakers. Initially, Andrew had spoken to other neighbors with radios as well to find out it was Spain, Portugal, and parts of Italy and France.

We heard the radio sing of the power slowly returning to the north, then the coasts, and then bang, around 8 pm, parts of Madrid. Ours still didn't come on and we went for a mental health walk as I needed it, feeling panicked about contact outside and worklessness. Walking around, everyone was laughing, kids were playing, people were playing b ball in the park and workouting out with little battery speakers to play music and I felt better. But as dusk fell, you could feel how dark it was going to be with the entire city off (except for the hospitals and a few other generator run places).

Our street felt like a cave, and a few dots of light with candles and battery powered lamps and lights glowed in the windows. Our neighborhood is old and boring and with reduced light and no tv, you could feel us all tired and turning in sooner rather than later. Andrew worried about Sofi and he went on his moto for a few minutes to check on her and the doggos. They were fine, but Andrew said our hood was dark, and lots of cops securing the peremiter.

Andrew was a champ, buzzed with adrenaline and memories of life in Africa, he found candles and lights and the house felt cozy and romantic. When he came home, I had fallen HARD asleep on the couch and we went to bed, knowing that it would look all different the morning.

I woke to lights on in our hallway at 4am, and realized with a sigh of relief it was over. It felt surreal, apocalyptic and completely unexpected. Others, compared it to hurricanes or ice storms, but I told Andrew, at least, those you are mentally prepped for, and not for a 1230 middle of the day complete shut down with no warning and worse, no cell phone coverage.

It made us feel tired, exhausted, even thought gratefully I have a gas stovetop and didn't need to open my fridge all day so nothing went off. I am glad, so glad that we had small town issues of going to bed early and no looters in our streets, and that when I came home, there was traffic but nothing that couldn't be patiently wade through.

There are lots of questions and no real answers, and lots of videos of people dancing in the streets of Madrid or casually drinking beers and coffees. What will happen here if it all ends? I think we'll all go down on the ship proud to have lived to the fullest. Some a little scared clutching others, and others happy to be together. I was happy to be home, with my man, who protected and cared for me and I knew would do for others if need be. Later, our friends told us if it ever really happens to wait for them to walk to our place and together we will take care of each other. I love it.

It made me happy to know that the first Spanish reaction in most cases was to help, to feed and drink with each other, to dance, to laugh and to wait together to see what happens next. I'm happy that long ago we wandered here, and here we are, together. If you fancy seeing what the fuss is about, come and join us. We'll make another cafe con leche.