Exhausted transistors and beer on terraces: "It's like the pandemic, but with everyone on the streets."

Barcelona"It's like the pandemic, but with everyone on the streets." It was one of the many phrases heard this Monday on the streets across the Iberian Peninsula. The center of Barcelona, ​​​​like all cities in the country, became a scavenger hunt to obtain radios, batteries, mobile phone power supplies, and candles, to survive the uncertainty of the power outage that has left more than 50 million people without power for hours. There were also lines trying to buy fuel at gas stations—even with gas cans—and dozens of people waiting in front of ATMs to withdraw money.

This image clashed with a completely different one: that of citizens who went out to enjoy the good weather and the terraces—which served only cold food—while the interiors of the shops remained in semi-darkness and many had their blinds down or the shop assistants were killing time sitting on chairs in the doorways. The parks were filled with people exercising and taking advantage of the opportunity to read during the news blackout. At lunchtime, there were still exceptions amid the confusion: at a restaurant on Pintor Fortuny Street, six plates of paella on two makeshift tables on the sidewalk caught the attention of pedestrians, while a car blasted its radio loudly to hear the news.

"Give me another one for the neighbor, who's alone." Juana has stopped by for the second time to buy candles at the Zhaidul gift shop on Carrer del Carme in Raval. She had already brought it a little while earlier for her grandchildren, because they are afraid of the dark and don't want to be left in the dark tonight. "The ice cream I bought and had in the freezer will have melted by now," she jokes. The vendor can barely see the coins in the light of a small candle and confirms that he has "nothing left": they've used up all the radios, batteries, and flashlights.

At Ali's bazaar on Carrer Joaquim Costa, the radios sold out in half an hour. Isabel came by bicycle from Sants because her 89-year-old mother lives alone in Raval and she was worried sick about her. She bought a small batch for three euros. The larger lanterns cost 25 euros, and 30 if they already have batteries. A few meters away, on Petritxol Street, Isabel calls her mother, who lives on the fourth floor of a building, as was done from the street, to throw her the keys to go upstairs: "I work in a supermarket and, since she lives alone, I bring her food."

Also in the Gothic Quarter, on Banys Nous Street, a cleaning lady is angrily talking to the owner of an apartment. "Why didn't you tell me you weren't coming?" she replies. "Because I couldn't tell you, there's no internet," he replies. Even so, she angrily insists that she could have sent him a text message. "That wasn't possible either!" she emphasizes.

Camping stoves and lots of batteries

At the Vert hardware store on Joaquim Costa Street, Mar takes out some coins to buy a small flashlight to light up her home. "It's a very large apartment, and our roommates are starting to run out of cell phone battery," she explains. Another customer is looking for "large batteries," while the clerk hands a man an orange camping stove so he can cook if necessary. At another cell phone accessory store in the neighborhood, a woman walking her dog comes in to ask what time it is because the battery has been dead for a while. "We're taking advantage of the afternoon to spend time talking with the neighbors," says the owner. This was another sight of the day: neighbors chatting in the doorways of their homes.

Lucía has had to use the barbecue in her yard to prepare chicken for her children to eat. "We depend so much on electricity and information, it's even comical. I come from Gran Via and there was a man with a radio at full volume so the neighbors could hear what was going on," she says, while queuing at a store on Ronda Sant Antoni. In another business, a clerk is selling Vodafone SIM cards because word had been spreading that they worked differently than other operators: "I'll sell it to you for 20 euros and tomorrow you can resell it for 25."

"The power's back on"

It wasn't until hours later that some businesses had power restored. But it wasn't back on all at once, and it wasn't everywhere. In fact, even the residents themselves can't explain why some doorways have power and others don't. At a butcher shop on Joaquim Costa Street, everyone was queuing up to buy the meat they hadn't been able to bring in earlier. "We reopened in barely ten minutes," says Zacarías, the owner. The fruit stand across the street is also his, but the power hasn't come back on yet.

The grocery store next door has also just had power restored. Mary Cris comes in, frightened, asking if she can pay by card. But the payment terminals still have no signal. "I've been everywhere, and they only accept cash. It's worse than during the pandemic," she laments. She doesn't know what she's going to eat because her fridge is empty.

Evelyn walks past, pushing her daughter in a stroller. He's surprised to see a light on in a drugstore and goes in to ask too. He says he lives next door, but there's still no electricity there. "We took advantage of the opportunity to spend the day outside, but we're eager to come back." He's lived here for over eight years and has never seen anything like it, he says.

But there are people for whom even a general blackout isn't a reason to dress shabbily. A few meters away, on Carme Street, Junior is sitting on the steps of a barbershop. He's been cut off for over eight hours and is scouring the neighborhood for an open barbershop. "I heard about the power outage, but there's no way I could go like this [pointing to his head]," he says. Finally, he's found it.