I spent $70 to dine in complete darkness in Madrid. Here's what it was really like.

• While visiting Madrid, Spain, for my birthday, I ate at a restaurant in complete darkness.
• We couldn't bring our phones into the dining room, and we didn't know what we were eating.

When I told people I was spending my birthday eating dinner in the dark, I got a lot of questions.

I've always been fascinated by the idea of dark dining, mostly because of scenes from "When in Rome" and "About Time." But the trend exists beyond the silver screen.

Since 1999, when Blindekuh opened in Zurich, dark-dining restaurants have popped up all over the world, especially in Europe.

Seeing that there was one in Madrid, where I'd be for my birthday, I decided it'd be a perfect opportunity to see if the concept lives up to the hype.

The restaurant was a bit off the beaten path

In Madrid, Dans le Noir is tucked away on a side street, about halfway between the Royal Palace of Madrid and Plaza Mayor, the city's main square.

Although I was kind of expecting it to be on a main street, the seclusion makes sense.

It's not exactly meant to be the kind of place you just happen upon and decide to pop in — though some of the other guests mentioned they made the decision that day.

The staff can accommodate different languages, and all of the servers have visual disabilities

According to the Dans le Noir website, the staff at the restaurant are all either "blind or partially sighted."

The host emphasized that inside the restaurant, the diners are the ones who experience disability — not the waitstaff.

They were also accommodating with our language barrier, which I failed to consider until the day of.

My Spanish-speaking abilities can get me pretty far, and I came with a friend who's fluent. But I was still a bit nervous. Luckily, our host knew English and asked us which language we'd prefer (to which we answered English).

Some of the other diners were Spanish speakers, so explanations were given in both languages.

You don't just descend right into the darkness

Before the meal itself, the host walks diners through the concept and answers any questions they may have.

This conversation is held in an illuminated area toward the front of the restaurant, which even has its own bar.

The menu is preset, but there are different price tiers

You don't know what you're eating ahead of time, as guessing is part of the fun. But there are different menu options, including a starter and main course for 40 euros, about $44, and a full meal with drinks for about 66 euros.

To get the most out of the experience, we decided on the expensive option — why not ball out for my birthday?

This consisted of a predinner glass of cava, an appetizer, a main course, dessert, and three glasses of "vino sorpresa," or surprise wine.

There are no phones allowed in the dining room

There's no use trying to take pictures once you're in the dark, and the restaurant advises against bringing anything that radiates light, including watches.

There were lockers downstairs where we could leave our devices, jackets, and wallets.

We also used the bathroom down there. Going to the bathroom is allowed during the meal, but as our host explained, it kind of ruins the experience.

We didn't dine alone

When it was time to take our seats, our waiter, Sam, lined us up in a quasi-conga line and led us into the dark dining room.

My friend and I were separated in the conga line, and I thought maybe separating parties was also part of the experience. We were soon, thankfully, seated across from each other at a table. But we weren't alone.

We shared the experience with two girls who went to university in Madrid but were originally from Italy and England. They also spoke English, so we were able to converse the entire time.

The food was interesting, and didn't require any silverware

Each dish we were served had very interesting tastes and textures, but we didn't know what anything was while we were eating.

The restaurant, understandably, has a pretty strict policy about not taking pictures of the menu, which varies from season to season.

The food also didn't require any sort of silverware (likely for safety reasons), and it was kind of fun to be able to eat with our hands and not get any weird looks.

After we emerged from the dark, our host revealed what the different dishes and wines were.

Overall, it was an unforgettable night — and it's harder to guess what you're eating than you might think

As someone born without a sense of smell, I went into the experience knowing I was at a disadvantage. But even my friend who has a fully-functioning sense of smell agreed it was hard to discern certain foods or drinks.

At the beginning of the night, we were told that a majority of people can't discern between red, white, and rosé wines. Although we were determined to be in the minority — and were pretty convinced we had it right — we failed completely.

Overall, though, we came out feeling full, a little tipsy, and in awe of the experience we just had.

This is definitely not the kind of thing you'd go to casually — it's a bit pricey for Madrid standards. But for special occasions, it's a great time.

I'll always cherish the memory of a bunch of strangers singing me "Feliz Cumpleaños" in complete darkness.