I Should Have Died On Tuesday, 29th, 2024
We are not ready to face natural disasters
On October 29th, 2024, a devastating flood struck Valencia, in Spain.
A storm known as a DANA ravaged the area. DANA stands for Isolated Depression at High Levels, a meteorological phenomenon that produces severe weather, heavy rainfall, and flash flooding.
This time it wasn’t just a storm; it was a catastrophe that turned one million lives upside down in minutes.
I live in Valencia, Spain. A year ago, I co-created a nice group of fans of downtempo and organic house music in Valencia, called Tranquilo Collective. And on the 31st, for Halloween, we had planned a big party, next to the Turia river, with a nice theme: the Mexican tradition of Día de Los Muertos.
Irony.
On Tuesday 29th in the afternoon, I was supposed to go by car to a town called Alfafar, 15 minutes away from my flat, in the South of Valencia. Alfafar is well known by Valencians for his huge commercial center — my task, as part of the decoration team, was to find flowers and candles to decorate the party spot.
Fortunately, I was informed that morning another member of the team works in a flower shop, and another one had just gathered dozens of candles from a previous party.
Fortunately. Because that afternoon, if I had been on the road, I would probably have died.
Red level at 7:00
The first notifications of serious weather conditions began around the early morning hours of October 29. AEMET, Spain’s meteorological agency, issued a red alert for Valencia.
By noon, skies filled with an ominous sound — a deep, unsettling rumble. Nothing special at first, since the area has already known violent storms — Valencia is in the Balearic area, and we sometimes experience tropical storms and massive rains. A beautiful thunder sky, full of lightning, but no rain. Nothing bad. The afternoon went on. People started to leave work and gather their kids from school.
What I did not know is that severe rains in the West were starting to flood the Rambla del Poyo river and the Forata dam.
20:00, official warning. Too late.
At 8:00 PM on October 29th, water from the Rambla del Poyo was surging at 2000 liters per SECOND. The dam broke. The streets, the schools, the businesses — none of it stood a chance. People trying to move their cars, salvage belongings, or find a safe place were taken by the floodwaters.
News and images began circulating on social media, showing people trapped in cars, clinging to trees, or being rescued by neighbours who had barely managed to escape themselves. In minutes, with no time to react, people were trapped in vehicles, homes, and businesses. Everything at ground level was swept away. Two hundred square kilometers (seventy-seven square miles) of very urbanised (and populated) areas.
It was as though the sea itself had claimed Valencia’s south.
Life and death
From that point on, it became a fight for survival. Roads were impassable, trapping people and leaving only helicopters to search for survivors. Police, firefighters, and volunteers faced barriers in accessing affected areas, as the floodwaters and debris covered entire neighborhoods. People have to cope alone, trying to find survivors before it’s too late, in the cars, streets, buildings, stores, everywhere. Some were rescued; many were not.
Animal shelters were also struck, with animals stranded as floodwaters rose. Volunteers rushed in with 4x4s to save as many as possible. Entire shelters were destroyed, leaving displaced animals and rescue teams scrambling for solutions.
When night came, without electricity, Internet, water or food, people started to take what was still edible in the local supermarkets.
Unprecedented solidarity
Facing the lack of response from authorities during the first hours, people started to go and help by themselves.
Starting early Wednesday morning, thousands of people, coordinated through social networks, gathered on the only accessible footbridge to the affected towns, armed with shovels, brooms, and buckets. Some others were carrying food and water to give to those who have nothing. For four days, this was the only help people in the affected areas managed to get.
Soccer stadiums became collection centres. Families and companies donated tons of blankets, food, water and masks for those who had nothing left.
This tragedy is only the beginning
Seventy-five cities and towns have been submerged under mud and water. 122,000 cars obliterated. Schools, hospitals — all gone in 90 minutes.
One million people have been affected. They have either lost their house, their car, their company, their store, their job, or a loved one.
And for some, all of the above.
All the inhabitants of the devastated zone are fighting to survive in conditions that feel straight out of a dystopian nightmare. No electricity. No heating. No food. No running water. No toilets — the mud clogged all the pipes. No basic human dignity. Imagine that.
And this despite the presence of 25,000 military personnel, 10,000 members of the state security forces and corps, and over 2,000 helicopters, engineering machines, intervention and transport vehicles, boats, and ambulances deployed.
The Albufera — the largest lagoon in Spain, home to the iconic rice fields that fuel the world-famous paella — is now a graveyard of trash, cars, and bodies. Experts say the pollution will poison the fields for decades.
This isn’t just about Valencia. It’s a flashing red siren for all of us.
Wake up and prepare for the worst
No one thinks they’ll face a catastrophe — until they do. Life’s daily rhythm lulled us into complacency.
Climate change is real.
In just five years of living in Valencia, I’ve seen storms grow angrier, floods rise faster, and the planet’s warning signs scream louder.
Scientists have been shouting this for decades: the weather is going to get more violent, more unpredictable, and more devastating. Valencia just learned the hard way that Mother Nature isn’t playing.
And let me tell you something that is hard to admit.
If you think the government will save you within minutes when disaster strikes, you’re delusional.
This is Spain — a wealthy, developed country. And yet, it took four days for the government to gather their forces and send in reinforcements. By then, people had already lost everything, including their lives — more than 800 people died in the three days following the mud flood.
You think your country is better prepared? Look at what happened with Katrina. Or Maui. Or Pakistan. When the big one hits, you’ll be on your own.
The hard truth: you need to be prepared
Our ancestors knew better. They lived in harsh environments and understood that nature doesn’t care about your plans, your comfort, or your survival. They stored food, had wells for water, and kept their homes warm without electricity.
We? We live one click away from convenience and think it’ll always be there. But when disaster strikes, Amazon won’t deliver, and your local supermarket will look like a war zone.
You need to wake up and take responsibility for your survival.
Here’s how to:
- Pack a go-bag. Keep a backpack with essentials: food, water, medications, a flashlight, phone chargers, and important documents.
- Stockpile supplies. Have at least a week’s worth of water, canned goods, and basic necessities. Enough water for 4 people for 7 days is 185 litres (49 gallons), folks. Yes, it’s a lot. No, it’s not optional.
- Stay connected. Sign up for emergency alerts and keep your devices charged. A dead phone in a disaster is as good as a rock.
- Build community. Your neighbours might be the ones who save your life. Get to know them. Find out who has tools, skills, or supplies.
This is fundamental — everything you need to know is readily available on prepper sites and networks.
The real cost of comfort
Valencia wasn’t ready. Neither are most of us. We’ve grown soft, lulled into complacency by modern comforts. But when disaster comes — and it will — comfort won’t save you. Preparedness will.
This storm killed more than people. It killed illusions. It killed the belief that life will always go on as it has.
So ask yourself: Are you ready for your world to change in 90 minutes? Because if Valencia taught me anything, it’s this: we should be.
Enjoyed this dive? You can buy me a coffee. Or a life insurance.
