Ortona hit by wild weather, history and sport: schools closed, gas cut off and the spirit of Pallavolo Impavida

Who says the Abruzzo coast is all about sun and beaches? We here in Ortona know better: when the wind turns, the sky goes leaden grey and wild weather smashes the coast with a fury you don't see coming. In these first days of April, the town battened down the hatches and gritted its teeth. April 1? Schools closed, weather alert through the roof. Kids at home, empty streets, and local business owners along the waterfront with their hearts in their mouths. Then yesterday, April 2, a real cold shower (literally) for neighbourhoods like Feudo, Lazzaretto, Savini and Foro. No gas. Not even a flame to cook a plate of pasta or have a hot shower after getting your jacket soaked. The storm damaged the pipes, and people are absolutely fed up.

But if there's one thing I've learned growing up here, it's that Ortona is not a town that gives up. It didn't in '43, when homes became trenches and every corner was a battlefield. The Battle of Ortona, fought between German paratroopers and Canadian infantry, was one of the bloodiest of the Italian campaign. Street by street, house by house, with sappers blowing through load‑bearing walls. They called it "little Stalingrad". And today, as you walk along the waterfront or stop for a coffee in Piazza Trento e Trieste, you might not think about it. But the Ortona Canadian Military Cemetery, on that green hill overlooking the sea, reminds you every day. More than a thousand white graves, lined up like soldiers on parade. A heavy silence – but one that teaches you something.

That's why, when the rain comes or the wind knocks out the gas meters, I don't panic. Pallavolo Impavida Ortona shows the way. You know that team that never drops a set, that chases down lost balls and turns the match around in the final rallies? Yeah, they're cut from the same cloth. Impavida is the beating heart of this community: young players sweating it out in the gym, parents packing the PalaBianchini, and that "stop‑and‑you're‑dead" attitude. While that cursed April wind was howling outside, inside the stadium you could feel a spirit of redemption. And that's not just a metaphor.

Let's have a quick, honest look at what this bout of bad weather left behind:

• Schools closed on April 1: a safety decision, given that gusts brought down a few branches and made getting around dangerous. Kids are happy, parents less so – but better a day at home than an accident.
• Disruptions in Feudo, Lazzaretto, Savini and Foro: gas cut off because of storm damage to the networks. No stovetop, no heating. Technicians are working on it, but patience has run out.
• Emergency funds: the council has already allocated money to fix the worst damage. We're talking tens of thousands of euros, but bureaucracy is slow – and those living in those areas know that better than me.

Now the rain seems to have stopped hammering the rooftops, and the alert has eased. But the drive to bounce back is already running high. Because Ortona is like that: after a battle you rebuild, after a storm you sweep away the rotten leaves, after a lost set you go back under the net and hit harder. And as I write this, I think of the Pallavolo Impavida Ortona boys, those players I know by name, those faces I run into at the supermarket. They don't stop. And neither do we.

If you ever find yourself around these parts, drop by the Ortona Canadian Military Cemetery. Bring a flower, a thought, even just a minute of silence. Then go watch an Impavida game. You'll feel the exact same thing: the sound of a community that doesn't know how to lose. Even when the sky slaps them in the face.