In the early hours of Sunday morning, Typhoon Noul made landfall along the coast of Guangdong province, carrying winds of 145 kilometers per hour and the full weight of a season that has already tested southern China more than once. More than 340,000 people had been moved from its path before it arrived — a testament to the hard-won knowledge that preparation, however disruptive, is the only answer humanity has found to the indifference of storms. The typhoon is weakening now, but the rain continues, and the region waits in that familiar space between crisis and recovery.
Typhoon Noul batters southern China; 340,000+ evacuated, flights grounded
340,000 people moved to safety before the storm arrived
Why does a typhoon like this require evacuating so many people? Isn't modern infrastructure supposed to protect cities?
Modern buildings can withstand the winds themselves, mostly. But typhoons bring rain—sometimes a meter or more in a day. That overwhelms drainage systems, causes landslides in hilly areas, floods low-lying neighborhoods. You can't engineer your way out of that volume of water. The evacuation is about getting people out of harm's way before the water comes.
340,000 people is an enormous number. How do you actually move that many people?
It happens over days, not hours. Authorities issue evacuation orders, people move to designated shelters or stay with family inland. Buses, trains, organized routes. It's practiced—this region has done it many times. But it's still chaotic. You're asking hundreds of thousands of people to leave their homes and livelihoods on short notice.
The scaffolding collapse—was that just bad luck, or a sign that preparations weren't adequate?
Probably both. Scaffolding is temporary by nature, and high winds can topple it if it's not perfectly secured. The fact that no one was hurt suggests either good fortune or that the site was evacuated in time. But it's a reminder that even in a prepared city, there are weak points.
Three typhoons in three weeks—is that normal for this time of year?
July is peak season in the Western Pacific. But three in quick succession is notable. Climate patterns shift year to year. What matters is that the region's evacuation systems are being tested repeatedly, and they're holding up so far.
What happens to all those evacuated people after the storm passes?
They return home to assess damage, file insurance claims if they have them, clean up. Many will have lost income for days or weeks. The economic impact spreads far beyond the immediate storm—canceled flights, closed businesses, supply chain disruptions. The human cost is measured in disruption as much as in direct harm.
Il Polso
- Typhoon Noul struck Huizhou at 3:50 a.m. Sunday with 145 kph winds, hitting a coastline that had barely recovered from two earlier typhoons in the same month.
- Over 340,000 residents were evacuated across Guangdong before landfall, train services were suspended province-wide, and more than 150 flights were canceled across Hong Kong and southern China.
- A scaffolding collapse on a high-rise building during the storm's approach added a moment of alarm to an already tense Saturday — though initial reports confirmed no injuries.
- Taiwan's southern and eastern regions absorbed Noul's outer rainfall bands but escaped a direct hit, as the storm's track carried it away from the island.
- Noul is weakening as it moves inland, but heavy rain and strong winds are expected to persist across Guangdong and southeastern Fujian, keeping the region on edge through the weekend.
In the early hours of Sunday morning, Typhoon Noul made landfall along the coast of Guangdong province, carrying winds of 145 kilometers per hour and the full weight of a season that has already tested southern China more than once. More than 340,000 people had been moved from its path before it arrived — a testament to the hard-won knowledge that preparation, however disruptive, is the only answer humanity has found to the indifference of storms. The typhoon is weakening now, but the rain continues, and the region waits in that familiar space between crisis and recovery.
Typhoon Noul came ashore near Huidong county in Guangdong province at 3:50 a.m. Sunday, its maximum sustained winds of 145 kilometers per hour bending trees and emptying streets along the southern Chinese coast. The landfall was precise; the preparation had been massive. Provincial authorities had coordinated the evacuation of more than 340,000 people in the days before the storm arrived, a logistical undertaking confirmed by state broadcaster CCTV by Saturday afternoon. Train services across Guangdong were suspended for Sunday entirely.
Hong Kong felt the storm's reach as Noul pushed inland. The city's airport canceled more than 150 flights across Saturday and Sunday, leaving travelers stranded in terminals and hotels as the outer bands swept through. On Saturday afternoon, scaffolding on a high-rise building collapsed in what police described as a dramatic but fortunate incident — no injuries were reported in the initial accounts, a near-miss of the kind that marks typhoon season in densely built cities.
Taiwan's southern and eastern regions received heavy rainfall from Noul's outer circulation as the storm passed south of the island, but the direct blow fell on Guangdong and Hong Kong. The storm was not arriving into a quiet season: Typhoon Bavi had struck on July 11th, displacing more than 2 million people across eastern China, and Typhoon Maysak had hit southern China just days before that on July 3rd. The region had been absorbing successive disruptions with little pause between them.
As Sunday progressed, Noul weakened over land, its rotation slowing against the friction of the terrain. But the National Meteorological Center warned that heavy rain and strong winds would continue affecting parts of southern Guangdong and southeastern Fujian through the weekend. The evacuations were complete; what remained was the waiting, and then the long work of assessing what the storm had left behind.
Typhoon Noul crossed into southern China early Sunday morning, its arrival marked by the kind of precision that weather systems allow: 3:50 a.m. local time, landfall near Huidong county in Huizhou, Guangdong province. The storm carried maximum sustained winds of 145 kilometers per hour—90 miles per hour—enough to bend the landscape and empty the streets.
By the time Noul's center reached the coast, more than 340,000 people had already been moved to safety. The evacuation orders had come down through Guangdong province in the days before, a massive logistical undertaking coordinated by provincial authorities who understood what was coming. State broadcaster CCTV confirmed the numbers by Saturday afternoon. Train services across the province were simply shut down for Sunday; there would be no movement by rail until the storm passed.
Hong Kong felt the storm's reach immediately. The Observatory there tracked Noul as it pushed inland from the coast, weakening as it moved but still delivering heavy rain and strong winds to parts of the region. The airport, that crucial artery connecting the city to the world, canceled more than 150 flights across Saturday and Sunday. Travelers found themselves stranded, rerouted, or simply waiting out the weather in terminals and hotels.
The human cost of the storm's arrival was measured in small, concrete incidents. On Saturday afternoon, part of a large scaffolding structure on a high-rise building gave way, collapsing in what local police described as a dramatic but ultimately fortunate moment—initial reports indicated no one had been injured. It was the kind of near-miss that punctuates typhoon season in densely built cities.
Taiwan, lying to the southeast, felt the storm's outer bands. The Central Weather Administration there reported rainfall across southern and eastern parts of the island as Noul passed over waters south of Taiwan, moving away as Saturday progressed. The island was spared the direct hit that Guangdong and Hong Kong absorbed.
This was not an isolated event in a quiet season. Earlier in July, Typhoon Bavi had made landfall on the 11th, forcing the evacuation of more than 2 million people across eastern China. Before that, Typhoon Maysak had struck southern China on July 3rd. The region was in the thick of typhoon season, each storm arriving with its own demands on infrastructure, evacuation capacity, and the patience of people whose lives were being repeatedly disrupted by nature's schedule.
As Sunday wore on, Noul continued its inland march, its winds gradually diminishing as friction with the land slowed its rotation. But the rain would persist. The National Meteorological Center expected heavy precipitation and strong winds to continue affecting parts of southern Guangdong and southeastern Fujian provinces through the weekend. The evacuation was complete; now came the waiting, the cleanup, and the assessment of what the storm had taken.
Citazioni salienti
Noul was moving Sunday into inland Guangdong and weakening progressively, bringing strong winds and heavy rain to parts of the region— Hong Kong's Observatory