Over 50 million people were affected by a ‘once-in-a-lifetime’ power cut in Spain that knocked-out power in most of the Iberian Peninsula – Portugal included. We were 3 of them, and the timing couldn’t have been worse.

This year’s travel plans had one pinch point that we knew was our Achilles heel. Flying from Madeira to Marrakech via Porto. Timing was tight, but it was more that we had decided to treat ourselves to stays in beautiful riads – one in the medina of Marrakech, the other in Essaouira.

Still, we gave ourselves 9 hours just in case crosswinds delayed take-off from Madeira (not uncommon) and time for lunch in Porto’s Ribeira district if not. There was barely a drop of wind as we took-off from Madeira and we landed in Porto on time.

What could go wrong? Given the average lifespan, the chances of a once-in-a-lifetime event happening on this day are 1 in 29,584. Or
0.003379%.

At this point, somewhere in the pan-Iberian electrical grid a domino falls that will end-up sending our plans tumbling.

So our plan is simple. Dump our bags in the left-luggage lockers and catch the metro into the city for a wander and a leisurely lunch. Ah, it appears that the lockers are a combination of full or broken. No worries, there are lockers at Trindade Station in the city.

On the way to the metro, the power briefly goes out in the airport. Not everything comes back right away, but it’s just fuses or rebooting right? We hang around just to make sure.

We’ve had this scare before with the power outage at Heathrow. We only narrowly avoided that chaos by a day. The same flight we took, but the day before, was diverted back to Singapore – 14 hours of flying to end up going nowhere.

No worries this time – gates are open, there are no delays on the board and planes are taking-off and landing. You just can’t buy an over-priced panini with your card. At the metro pay stations – a short walk from the terminal – the escalators are out, but the automatic doors and ticket machines are fine. So we, like dozens of others, buy tickets and head up to the platform above. Ah. Big power cut – no trains.

Mmm … better get back to the airport to see what’s going on. There’s no information, but we get a scrap of coverage and discover there’s been a huge power-cut across Spain and Portugal. The airport is functioning with just a few inconveniences like no card banking, no chillers keeping things cold or cookers to warm them up and no air-con. Or coffee – it’s that barbaric. So we’re staying put.

So what, we missed lunch in town? Planes are still coming in and out and there’s plenty of time for things to get fixed. EasyJet keep us informed with a couple of messages – our flight will be delayed 35 minutes, no make that 40. It’s a dull and expensive (airport pricing) 6-hour wait.

Getting through security and passport control, we’re alarmed to see Gate 11 is closed. We get there and the gate sure does look closed. Some ground crew have barricaded themselves into a corner far out of reach of passengers. When anyone approaches, they are rudely shouted at to stay away. This goes on for 3 hours. No information, nothing.

At about 9:30pm, the power fully comes back on to great applause and jovial cheering. Not too long after, a woman with a hi-vis vest says we should all go to Gate 2. Yes! This is it, disaster averted. An excited murmur erupts through the crowd and we all rush downstairs.

After another half-hour wait, the crowd seems to thin, lose its queue-like structure. A nice Portuguese passenger behind us explains that the flight has been cancelled. Oh. Then the lady in the hi-vis vest is back, and she’s rudely shouting at people to go back upstairs to Gate 10.

Now we’re baffled. What? Oh, it’s just so they can shove us out and back through passport control to the terminal. After an annoyingly thorough passport check (especially given Europe’s famously porous borders) after our 200m round trip, we’re out in the terminal in a queue of about 300 people waiting to get to the one information desk.

Luckily we don’t have to wait too long. After half an hour, they just slam the shutters and disappear. We’re now in an airport with no information, no-one to ask or help us, nowhere to stay and no way of getting to Morocco. That’s despite the posters at every desk (which must be there by law) explaining your rights as a passenger and the legal obligation of airlines which include:
1. Assistance – meals/ refreshments, access to communication and accommodation if necessary – especially when the cancellation happens at short notice or the delay is significant.
2. Re-routing or Refund – passengers have the choice of being re-routed at the earliest opportunity or getting a full refund.

So we launch into action to find accommodation – Alfie is shattered and stressed. We hit the apps, willing the patchy coverage to hold-out. Accommodation in Porto is disappearing faster than EasyJet’s ‘representatives’. The apps say “92% of places to stay are unavailable for your dates”. Then it’s “94%” and “96%” … we somehow manage to bag a room.

Now we’ve got to get there. Uber? Bolt? Of course there are hundreds of people unexpectedly surging into Porto, and ride-shares are hammered. ‘Confirm Ride’. ‘Cancel’. ‘Confirm Ride’. ‘Cancel’. We head for the taxi rank. Outside, the queue for taxis is obscene (we later hear of people waiting 4 hours). And then Uber suddenly clicks and we’ve 60 seconds to run the length of the taxi rank and find our ride.

At the hotel, there are 20 people in front of us at the unexpectedly crushed reception desk and 50 more behind us. Our scrambled brains are still running through emergency procedures(!) when we remember we might be able to get some money back on accommodation we won’t get to in Morocco. With 21 minutes to spare (it’s 11:39pm) until it’s not refundable – we get a full refund on Agadir and 50% back from Essaouira. The expensive Marrakech riad money is gone, but it’s something.

We finally get into our room at something approaching 1am and collapse into bed. After a bit more trying and failing to get in touch with the absent EasyJet, we go to sleep. For 5 hours.

First thing we’re back at the airport, and this time there’s no massive queue to the information desk. And no wonder. They just say “Nothing to do with us, call your airline”. We do. The gist of what they say is “We’re not that kind of airline – we don’t follow legal requirements or common decency, we just do cheap and the authorities let us away with it because we bring money into little places.”

So, to recap. We’ve been dumped in Porto with zero assistance and EasyJet refuse to help. This isn’t like Airline at all. Absent is the patronising adolescent with a clipboard and a bit of power being shouted at by entitled people who think rules don’t apply to them. No, this is the other way round. Our only avenue is to use the EasyJet app – a tool designed solely to get the airline off the hook. We are presented with 2 ‘choices’:

1. Rebook a flight – the app says this can be with other airlines. But then shows only EasyJet flights. We can choose to fly from Lisbon (an airport worse hit by the power outage) in 3 days’ time or next week from Porto.
2. Cancel – get a refund (some time in the future) and then EasyJet declare their hands washed of you.

Can we find an alternative ourselves? Just. There are 3 seats left on a RyanAir flight on Saturday to Agadir. It means 5 days in Porto and missing-out on Marrakech and Essaouira, but it’s our only realistic shot of getting to Morocco without completely blowing our budget. The spotty internet access and problems accepting our credit card make a simple purchase a harrowing one! But we manage to get it.

Then it’s a frantic search for affordable accommodation. We manage to find a place for 3 nights and a more expensive one for the Friday night. We had about 2 other choices – Porto is close to 100% occupancy.

Then we hit a patch of good news! The studio we’ve booked let’s us check in 4 hours early so we’re not stuck with our bags. Oh, and despite a slew of terrible online reviews (what choice did we have?) it’s lovely! Then the Riad in Essouira unexpectedly gives us a full refund even though they don’t have to!

This good fortune lasts a day. The weather is gorgeous and we have a great time exploring Porto – there’s fancy gelatos and big beers sat at umbrellaed tables in a cobbled plaza framed by historic buildings.

Next day – Alerta Amarelo for heavy rain in Porto, and it’s bucketing it down all day. Then an email from RyanAir saying our booking is blocked because we booked it from some dodgy 3rd party. Um, the only dodgy website we used was ryanair.com. A quick look online and it seems this happens to plenty of folks – but don’t worry, it can be fixed for a small fee. How fortunate that a website ‘bug’ turns out to be profit-making. Still, we get that hiccup sorted and catch up with some work.

Spanish infrastructure is the barrel that EasyJet bent us over

So in summary. Spanish infrastructure is the barrel that EasyJet bent us over. We’re hundreds of pounds out of pocket, exchanging relaxing riads for a couple of stress-filled days. And no hope of recouping it from the slippery shysters.

But … I’m proud of us. Honestly, with the speed at which the punches just kept landing, we just focused on dealing with it. No point wasting energy on anger or worrying about money. Get Alfie safe, make sure he’s not stressed and make the best of it. So we’ve swapped some of our Morocco plans to enjoy Porto instead.

Piano, piano. Con calma, con calma.