Ortona hit by wild weather, history, and sport: schools closed, gas cut off, and the fighting spirit of Pallavolo Impavida
Who says the Abruzzo coast is all sunshine and beaches? We locals in Ortona know better: when the wind turns, the sky goes leaden grey and the wild weather slams into the coast with a fury you wouldn't expect. In these first few days of April, the town has battened down the hatches and gritted its teeth. April 1st? Schools closed, weather alerts through the roof. Kids at home, empty streets, and the beachfront café owners with their hearts in their mouths. Then yesterday, April 2nd, 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 rightly furious.
But if there's one thing I've learned from living here my whole life, it's that Ortona isn't a town that gives up. It didn't back in '43, when homes turned into trenches and every corner was a battle. 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 stroll along the seafront or grab a coffee in Piazza Trento e Trieste, you might not think about it. But the Canadian War Cemetery of Ortona, up on that green hill overlooking the sea, reminds you every single day. More than a thousand white headstones, 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 gives up on a set, that chases down lost balls and turns the match around in the final rallies? Yep, same stuff. Impavida is the beating heart of this community: young people sweating it out in the gym, parents packing the PalaBianchini, and that "stop and you're done" mentality. While that cursed April wind was howling outside, inside the stadium you could feel a comeback in the air. And that's not a metaphor.
Let's break down, nice and easy, what this bout of nasty weather left behind:
- Schools closed on April 1st: a safety call, since the gusts brought down a few branches and made getting around risky. 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 due to storm damage to the network. No stove, no heating. Crews 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 red tape moves slowly – 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 thermometer for the will to bounce back is already high. Because Ortona is like that: after the battle, you rebuild; after the storm, you sweep away the rotten leaves; after a lost set, you get back under the net and attack harder. And as I write this, I'm thinking of the Pallavolo Impavida Ortona crew, the players I know by name, the faces I see at the supermarket. They don't quit. And neither do we.
If you ever find yourself around these parts, stop by the Canadian War Cemetery of Ortona. Bring a flower, a thought, even just a minute of silence. Then go watch an Impavida game. You'll feel exactly the same thing: the sound of a community that doesn't know how to lose. Even when the sky is slapping them in the face.