Blackout in Spain and Owning My Age

Plus photos of the house in Spain

The Blackout in Spain

Hi friends!

As mentioned in earlier posts, I’m trying to find the right work-life balance here in Spain. I’m a morning person and like to get the hard stuff out of the way early in the day, but I have yet to hit on a routine I can adhere to regardless of who’s at the house. It’s been a week, and I’m ready to settle in.

Tuesday morning was glorious with the bluest skies I’ve seen yet. Before people started to rise, my mandate was to photograph the house for this post, taking advantage of the beautiful morning light. I stopped for a break to have tea and toast. Just as the toaster popped up, the kitchen lights went off. I thought I blew a fuse. It took me a while to discover the whole house was out. I texted the house manager just as I heard the German man in the villa next door shout down to his wife at the pool something about elektrizität. That was my first inkling that it wasn’t just us. There was no internet, and WhatsApp was spotty. My work day was over.

Alexandra, the house manager, messaged me that all of Jávea was without power. The car was stuck in the garage behind the electric garage door. Our plans to go to the Old City portion of Jávea for lunch, people watching (you asked, I obey), and shopping would have to wait.

With no car and little in the house for sustenance, my younger daughter and I decided to walk to the nearest market, about a mile away. The other daughter was happy to hang out by the pool. Still no worries, thinking this will end soon. We were turned away at the market due to no power or internet to accept cards. Oh yeah, and I had zero cash, having given the last of my money to the cab driver from the airport because he had no service in front of the house. Only then did I start to think we’re in a bit of a pickle.

No cash, no car, and very little food, just what was left of the fruit and snacks basket, the owner of the house left us, some eggs, and two-day-old bread. Nothing to do but hang by the pool and enjoy the day. Yes, the tum was a bit grumbly, but a little self-imposed fasting was welcome after a large seafood paella the previous night.

The girls decided to go on the first of many intel-gathering walks. It wasn’t until about five that the girls came back with news that all of Spain, Portugal, and parts of France were without power. WTF? They also heard it may be restored by 11:00 pm or in one week. What? That’s when I began to be concerned, we did not have nearly enough to get through a week. The German man next door confirmed what the girls had heard. His attitude was no worries; he spent the day at the beach with his family, his car was not captive like ours, and he had cash. The villa on the other side of us sounded Spanish, and they decided to make a party in true Spanish fashion.

At this point, I’m hungry; the Spanish equivalent of Chex Mix and mandarin oranges can only take you so far. I sent the girls out to see if the only restaurant within walking distance was open, it wasn’t. It was then that the words cyber attack started to get thrown around by the people they met along the way. Now it’s taking a dark turn. It was just the three of us in the house; the other half of the party went to Ibiza for three nights. It’s Survivor, luxury villa on the Costa Blanca edition. I needed to get sustenance into my girlies and me, but we couldn’t cook without power on the induction stove.

Time to check out the outdoor kitchen. There was a gas grill that actually lit. I scrambled up six eggs with rationing food in the back of my head, added some stale bread without the benefit of toasting, and voila, dinner was served.

Who has a beef with Spain and Portugal, we wondered over dinner. They mind their own business. We decided to take one last intel walk before dark, while my younger daughter prepared for the night with candles that luckily were in abundance. The house is a multi-level, darkness death trap with white winding stairs everywhere.

Still riding high on my survival skills for cooking eggs on a grill, we set off to see what we could find out before it got dark. Soon, we joined the conversation of an older German man and a younger Belgian man in the street in front of their houses. One positive thing about a crisis is that it gets total strangers talking. In this case, it was a mixed blessing. The German gentleman was a full-blown alarmist, vehemently floating the theory that it was a practice cyber attack by North African hackers and Germany could be next. His bright side was that we still had water, but that would probably go too. In contrast, the Belgian guy was totally chill but could barely get a word in, though he suggested we fill a bathtub with water. Point taken. A bit rattled, we returned home.

At 9:00 pm, it was not yet fully dark. We lit candles and contemplated what kind of old-timey fun we could rustle up for the remainder of the evening. My younger daughter was not intrigued and went to bed. My older daughter gave me a lesson on conjugating Spanish verbs after I lamented not fulfilling my Duolingo quota for the day. Then we just talked, noting how deafening the silence was. It was then that we started to appreciate how peaceful it was without high-tech distractions and the information overload we so willingly invite into our waking moments.

By then, it was fully dark. We stepped outside on the terrace facing the Mediterranean and were hit by the most magnificent display of stars I’ve ever seen. There was no moon, the skies were clear, and no land light. Infinite layers of stars were on full display. Whatever caused this blackout, it couldn’t have been better timed. The only thing to distract us was the basics: eating, sleeping, and living in the moment. Now enter our holier-than-thou phase of the blackout. Heroically surviving in a luxurious villa without power for ten hours. We had to laugh at how absurd we were, while so many suffer so much worse, caught in the crossfire of senseless wars. The irony of our plight was not lost on us.

We went to bed around 10:00. My mind was racing, how long would this go on? Were we safe? What’s the plan if this isn’t resolved? I couldn’t close my eyes because the stars outside my window were too spectacular. It was dead silent and pitch black, not a recipe for sleep for a New Yorker.

At 11:00, the lights flicked on! We cheered and had a group hug. Within seconds, we were all on our phones again. It will take more than a massive blackout to cure us of our addiction to our phones, but I’m determined to try. A day later, I see the power outage as a gift. Life is precious, and time is our most valuable asset; the phone robs us of our time and attention and distracts us from what’s meaningful in our lives. This is a habit I’m now determined to break.

Hitting A Big Number

Speaking of time, yesterday I turned 65. This is a huge statement for me to make. For most of my adult life, I’ve been quite cagey about my age. As a fashion designer, growing old is a career killer. Concealing your age is essential for survival. After forty, I became acutely aware that my design days were numbered. I was fortunate to have hung on well into my fifties and was lucky to have worked for Carolina Herrera, who, as I used to joke, was the only designer older than me. When there was an upheaval in design at CH, the writing was on the wall; the jobs that used to find me were no longer available. I decided I needed to change my life completely, which you can read about in “Escape to Savannah”. Two and a half years and another late midlife crisis later, I returned to New York, which you can read about in “Escape to New York”.

Now, officially a senior citizen, I’ve decided to finally own my age. This birthday has loomed over me like a menacing cloud long enough. Now that it’s passed, I feel a sense of relief and excitement to embrace who I am now and make the most of the time I have left. I’m settled again in the city I love, close to my daughters and friends, many of whom I met in my early days in the city.

On my birthday yesterday, in the charming old town of Jávea

I have much to be grateful for: my family, friends, and good health. After a serious health scare in August, which landed me in the ICU for three days with sepsis, I no longer feel invincible. Health, enjoying life, and taking the inevitable struggles in stride are what it’s all about for me now. But I also need purpose and meaning in my life. Founding What Looks Good a year ago has been a gift. Thank you, dear readers, for your support and wonderful comments. Getting to know you this past year has been a joy. We’re all in this together; that’s something that age has taught me. To have a platform to write about my passions and stay connected to fashion in a personal way has been a blessing that I have you to thank for. You have made this possible, and for that I am eternally grateful. I also love hearing from and getting to know you. You’re all amazing, smart, and above all, kind. Without you, I don’t know if I would be able to own my age (totally new territory for me). For the first time in a very long time, I’m comfortable with who I am and where I’m at, and looking forward to the future and whatever that may bring.

Sending you lots of love,

Jolain

For my birthday, I made this post free to all. If you haven’t already, please consider supporting What Looks Good by becoming a paid subscriber or trying it out as a free subscriber. Thank you to all my paid subscribers, you make this possible! xxx