April | 2016 | The Life of All Sorts

As I wake up at home here in Gdansk, getting ready for a typical day of studying, it’s hard to believe that just thirteen days ago I was hiking the igneous rock trails of Mount Etna. From where we were staying in Taormina, Sicily, the peak was in perfect view. I could always see it in the distance, smoking and steaming, huffing and puffing peacefully in the background.

We had a fantastic guide drive us up to take a hike on the volcano. I absolutely adore having a great tour guide– the kind of person who is immensely knowledgeable and more than happy to answer all of your questions (and I always like to ask questions). Our guide Salvo was a native to Sicily. This was evident as he was overflowing with facts and anecdotes about the traditions of volcanology, homemade olive oil, herbal remedies, folk music, and other local charms passed down through the generations.

The landscape from our hike was unlike anything I had ever seen before. As with most natural wonders, words and photographs are inadequate to describe the magnificent vastness of the setting. The great power of Etna is a fierce reminder of how nature rules over us. I was in awe and in wonder of this formidable volcano. It comes as no surprise that ancient Greeks and Romans believed Cyclops, the god of war, resided in the magmatic depths of Mount Etna.

We hiked for a few hours on a trail of crunchy black gravel which was hardened lava. For lunch, we drove to a shaded area in a birch forest and enjoyed sandwiches with local cheese and ham, spicy olives, and wine from grapes grown on the slopes of Etna.

After lunch, we went spelunking. It was my first time exploring caves and it was amazing! We donned helmets and flashlights and descended into a lava tube– a tunnel formed by the physics of cooling lava. After a volcanic eruption, a stream of fluid lava begins to cool first at the top and side surfaces. While this sort of “shell” hardens on the surface, molten lava continues to flow beneath it.

The result is a hollowed out tunnel, which in our case was between about a meter in diameter at its narrowest, up to a few meters when it opened up. This lava tube in particular had been used long ago as a sort of refrigerator for storing ice, which was sold for making gelato in the hot summertime.

We concluded our adventure by exploring one of the craters from which lava had once erupted. I was surprised to learn that although the peak of Mount Etna is open and constantly releasing smoke and steam, most eruptions originate from other sites in the proximity of the peak.

One of the first questions I asked our guide that day was, “How do we know the volcano is not going to erupt today?” I felt safe knowing that there was a team of volcanologists 24/7 monitoring patterns in the seismographs, the chemical composition of the gas rising from the peak, and many other factors to anticipate an eruption. Unfortunately, there is always a slight chance that an anomalous eruption could catch volcanologists by surprise, but the risk was low and we would (probably) have had time to speed away in the van if our guide caught any warning signs.

My day on Mount Etna was by far one of the coolest and most fascinating experiences of my life thus far. I can do little more to describe it with words, so here are some pictures:

View of Mount Etna in Sicily, the tallest active volcano in Europe. Seen from our hotel in Taormina.

A close-up of the steaming peak of Mount Etna. The lava fields are well visible here, seen as the ridges where molten lava cooled into solid rock.

Commencing our hike on the trail of gravel-like lava rocks. Our steps were marked by a muffled crunch, the sound being dampened by the air pockets within each igneous rock.

The edge of a lava field from the most recent major eruption, showing the lucky trees that were spared alongside the total destruction in the wake of the lava.

Lava causes different levels of destruction depending on its temperature, which decreases with the distance it has flowed. When lava is at its hottest (up to 1200˚C), it completely obliterates everything in its path, burning it to ash. When lava is “cooler” (still unthinkably hot, as rock becomes molten at a minimum of 700˚C), it might produce the effect seen in this picture. The trees were burned and killed, but the lava flowed around them, leaving them standing.

The rooftop of a building which fell victim to the eruption, seen on the right.

Volcanic rock. The smaller rock on the left contains pyrite giving it shiny tinges of gold, hence its common name as “fool’s gold.”

Our amazing tour guide, Salvo, shows us a volcanic “bomb,” one of many rounded rocks which the volcano spits out, which are then thrown through the air during an eruption. As one can imagine, they cause craters of destruction from high impact wherever they land.

Mount Etna

Entrance to the lava tube

Since catching the travel bug, it has been one of my greatest desires to visit Italy. And I couldn’t have asked for a more idyllic experience than to spend Easter in Sicily with my boyfriend and his wonderful family!

It was my first time in Italy (I don’t count a brief transit between Milano airport and train station as experiencing the culture). I had heard countless fabulous anecdotes about delicious Italian food and wine, picturesque architecture, charming chaos, and pleasant weather– and all of it was certainly true!

We stayed a few nights in Taormina, Sicily at a gorgeous hotel overlooking the sea. On my first morning, I woke up and stepped onto our enormous balcony only to be blinded by the radiant white light of this thing called the sun. I felt like I was emerging from months of living in a dark cave, that I had never truly seen the sun until this glorious moment of brightness and warmth.

As we basked in the sunshine, reclining in sun chairs with magazines and sunglasses, it was soon evident that I had grossly underestimated the strength of the Mediterranean sun. I regretted the moment in gloomy Gdansk when I had held a bottle of sunscreen in my hand, considered packing it, then put it back in the drawer thinking, ‘It’s only March, the sun can’t possibly be so strong that I need sunscreen!’ I was both shocked and euphoric to discover that my shoulders and nose had been burned to a mild red by the end of the sunny day.

Some mild culture shock can be expected when traveling to a new country. The hardest thing for me to comprehend was there was absolutely not enough space for anything, anywhere. In Canada, everything is built relatively recently, so the roads were designed to fit large vehicles with plenty of space to breathe. In an older city like Taormina, in contrast, the roads were made for horse-drawn carriages, so it’s a wonder that modern vehicles fit!

On our way to Taormina, my heart nearly jumped out of my chest with panic as our bus teetered around hairpin curves on sloped roads which were so narrow that other cars had to pull over just to let the bus squeeze by. I was convinced the bus– giant in comparison to the skinny strips of road– would topple over the side of the cliff, or at the very least get crushed and scratched by the rocky cliff wall on the opposite side. I scrunched my eyes shut and focused on eating a handful of pecan nuts to prevent myself from crying out, “STOP THE BUS! I CAN’T TAKE IT! I’M GETTING OFF!”

During the rest of our stay, I was continuously astonished by incredible ability of Italians to squeeze their cars into tight spaces. No street was too narrow for an Italian driver to navigate through! Pedestrians pushed their backs flat against the buildings on either side as the car passed by, merely centimeters from the people and walls. I was not surprised to see that most of the cars parked in Taurmina had scratches and dents on the bumper!

Even restaurants were crowded inside, and we had to turn sideways to edge between tables and chairs and reach our seats. Yet, somehow, the lack of space turned out to be just the right amount of space. Buses and cars successfully squeezed through narrow roads, and restaurants felt perfectly spacious and comfortable as soon as we were seated.

And what spectacular food! I would have liked to spend a lifetime in Italy just to enjoy all the food! I tasted it all: Linguini, pizza, capuccino, olives, cannoli, panna cotta, tiramisu, swordfish (a Sicilian specialty), bread dipped in olive oil, and local wines. I enjoyed two scoops of cold and refreshing gelato outside the entrance of an ancient Greek theater. Built about 2300 years ago, this enormous theater was by far one of the oldest structures I have ever seen. It was amazing to imagine that thousands of years ago, the Greeks were entertained by watching plays and performances similar to the way we still do today.

The town of Taormina was so beautiful and full of character that it left me speechless. It was to picturesque to be real! It felt like it was somehow staged, like a clever entrepreneur had built a facade on the architecture and hired actors to mill about the town and speak rapidly and passionately in Italian. Even at night, the warm night air was cozy and welcoming, and the streets were still alive with locals and tourists enjoying dinner or a glass of red wine. It was absolutely magical to walk through town, both in the sunshine and the moonlight.

On the whole, my experience in Sicily was sublime. Taormina was a charming town to visit, made perfect by warm weather and lovely company!