SICILY  2007  -  Week 8 - Etna

  View this week's photo

  Bottom of News Page

  Return to Sicily Index Page

WEEK 8 NEWS - ETNA, Europe's largest active volcano:

Etna is a big mountain, 3,350m (10,950 feet) high and covering a surface area of 1,600 square kms. With its smoking summit dominating much of Sicily's eastern skyline, it is also Europe's largest active volcano; in recent years, its craters have become increasingly explosive, with major eruptions in 2001~3.

Click on highlighted area
for details of Etna

We made an exploratory foray by travelling on the Ferrovia Circumetnea, a narrow-gauge railway circling 114 kms around the Etna foothills to its terminus on the Ionian coast. We feared the train would be monopolised by coach loads of tourists, but the only other passengers were local people and school children using the line as regular public transport out to the remote towns and villages around Etna. The railway passes through olive and citrus groves, gaining height across Etna's southern slopes, with superb views of the volcano's snow-covered peaks (Photo 1). The line weaves a winding route through a vast and bleakly barren wilderness of volcanic rubble and lava flows, passing through foothills towns to reach its highest point at 976m near the impoverished-looking town of Bronte. It was here in 1799 that King Ferdinand bestowed ducal estates on Admiral Nelson for English help in saving the Bourbon monarchy from Napoleonic revolt. Nelson never got round to visiting his Sicilian estates, but the clearly eccentric Rev Patrick Prunty so obsessively admired Nelson that he changed the family name to Bronte, hence the name by which we know his literary daughters Anne, Charlotte and Emily. The railway continues through great walls of solidified lava to Randazzo, the largest of the Etna foothills towns, with the volcano's gloomy presence louring above. Steep terraces on Etna's northern flanks are covered with vines, producing some of Sicily's best wines. To travel on the Ferrovia Circumetnea is a railway journey with a difference, and an excellent introduction to time spent higher on the active volcano of Etna - visit the railway's web site on  www.circumetnea.it

We moved up onto the southern slopes of Etna to camp on grim black volcanic ash at the village of Nicolosi, close to the outlying Monti Rossi craters formed during the great eruption of 1669 and now a nature reserve. The magnificent spectacle of the distant Etna massif, viewed from the crater rim, enabled us to identify key features on the southern face which we should explore at closer quarters in the coming days. It was now time to advance up to Rifugio Sapienza at 2,000m through a barren wilderness of volcanic debris, cinders and ash, past long black tongues of lava flow from the 2001~2 eruptions. And looming above was the snow-covered mass of Etna's summit peaks, graced by the volcano's resident plume of smoke. Being the highest point of vehicular access on south Etna, Rifugio Sapienza is by day a seething chaos of tour-buses and parked cars whose ill-shod occupants swarm noisily around the sordid souvenir stalls or crawl over the nearby elegant Silvestri craters which opened up along a radial fault in the 1892 eruption. By 6-30 pm however, the last tour-buses departed leaving us in peace, and the sun dipped behind the lava flows; temperatures at this height dropped quickly, and we settled in for a chill night's wild camp - one of our highest at 6,500 feet - against the eerie backdrop of Etna's snowy peaks.

Relieved that our night was not disturbed by any volcanic happenings, we signed up next morning at the Etna Alpine Guides' Association hut for a full day's climbing around Etna's higher reaches, expensive but the experience of a lifetime. From Rifugio Sapienza, we gained further height by cable car and 4WD jeep, up to 2,920m to link up with the guide. From here, we set out northwards towards the central craters, across broad snowfields and deposits of black volcanic ash (Photo 2). Clouds of steam plumed upwards from the central craters which towered above us streaked with yellow sulphur (Photo 3). Against the stark blue sky, it was an awe-inspiring sight, as we laboured upwards across the ash fields to reach a craggy, razor-sharp lava flow; this was in fact only 13 days old, being an outflow from an eruption on 11 April 2007. The guide kicked a hole in the lava surface to demonstrate how this new rock we were standing on was still distinctly hot: 1m down, it was 200°C. Advancing up a steep gradient of volcanic debris, we reached today's high-point at 3,000m, just 350m below the now dangerous and out-of-bounds summit craters, at a steaming, craggy lava-vent (Photo 4). We descended snow fields, spattered with volcanic bombs, giving further views of the steaming central crater group (Photo 5), across to the rim of nearby large craters which were enveloped in steam emerging from fearful black fissures (Photo 6). These craters had been formed during a 3 month explosive eruption in 2002~3, which had rained a 15 cm deep ash deposit on Catania 12 kms away, and spewed out a 5km long lava flow down the southern slopes. Temperatures down in the vent were still over 500°C. Etna's characteristic eruptions begin explosively, throwing columns of red-hot magma 300m into the air and raining extensive layers of cinders, ash and volcanic bombs; this is then followed by an effusive stage, with vast lava flows advancing across the snow and ash fields like fiendish black tongues.

From the crater rim, we dropped steeply down the cinders and ash, scree-running without a conscience about erosion - there was endlessly more such volcanic material where all this came from - then glissaded down steep snow. Looking back up the 500m to the misty cones was a scary sight: had we really descended so far so fast? Across another snow field, the terrain dropped steeply away again; did we really have to descend that? 'Andiamo' announced the guide, and we glissaded further to the rim of the fearful Valle del Bove, a 7 km long, 6 km wide and 1 km deep chasm, created across the SE face of Etna by the implosive collapse of an ancient volcano's magma chamber at an earlier phase of Etna's existence over 200 million years ago. A nerve-wracking snow-shelf contoured for 150m above the fearful precipitous drop into the Valle. Another 500m descent on steep snow and ash brought us down to the highest vegetation levels; here we had our first sightings of Etna's hardy indigenous flora, prickly cushions of Spinosanto (Astralagus Siculus) and delicately-coloured Etna Violets (Viola aetnensis), growing incongruously on the lava ash (Photo 7). Down through this bleak and trackless lunar landscape, we descended with the guide to the Silvestri craters back to Rifugio Sapienza. Weary of limb, but exultant after such a day's high level ventures on Etna, we again set up for a second night's high camp, with the lights of Catania twinkling way below us across the dark lava fields. And the following day, after our descent from 2000m back to Nicolosi at 750m, plastic mineral water bottles had imploded slightly with the increase in atmospheric pressure. So ended the south Etna phase.

The following day, we followed the course of the Circumetnea Railway, to make our own circumnavigation around the western and northern flanks of Etna. We again passed through Bronte whose other claim to fame is that of being Città del Pistachio, producing 85% of Italy's pistachio nut output, which inexplicably is harvested only in odd-numbered years. We had been fortunate for weather for our time high on south Etna; today the sky was leadenly overcast when we stopped at a gelateria in Bronte for a dish of their renowned pistachio ice-cream. By the time we reached Randazzo, the rain was mightily raining, giving the town an even more gloomy air. After a long drive in appallingly rainy conditions across Etna's northern slopes, we reached the village of Milo to find the straightforward and delightfully sited Mareneve Camping. The rain continued to pour, lightning flashed and thundered rumbled ominously around the hills; it was not a comfortable feeling camped in such conditions at 700m on the side of a volcano. That evening, we compensated for the ghastly weather with excellent Etna Rosso wine from a local producer, Villegrande.

Despite continuing low cloud, we were determined to resume our explorations on the northern side of Etna, and the following morning re-ascended to 1,800m, literally at the end of the road at Rifugio Citelli. Always fascinated by distinctive road signs, we noted one unique to conditions on Etna (see left) amid the volcanic ash. Here we walked the circuit of the Monti Sartorio craters, formed by a mid-19th century eruption which lasted 6 months and poured 96 million cubic metres of lava across the mountain's northern flanks. Here endemic Etna birch trees (Betula aetnensis) flourish amid the barren wastes of black ash and lava, and huge volcanic bombs litter the ground, formed when globules of viscous lava are flung out during explosive eruptions, cooling as they spin through the air. Significantly in this bizarre environment, we heard our first cuckoo of 2007. Nearby at Piano Provenzana, uprooted trees, blacked by the intensely hot lava of recent eruptions, still lay amid the desolation of volcanic rubble. That night, we camped up on the black volcanic ash at Rifugio Citelli. Dusk came early tonight with a gloomy misty drizzle enveloping us; the refuge-hut closed and we were left alone amid the blackness of Etna's northern heights. What we should do if the volcano erupted tonight somehow did not concern us as we settled in. And as a reward for our cold, wet night at Citelli, the following morning dawned bright giving a wonderful view of Etna's northern face (Photo 8). But the weather followed its customary pattern and by mid-morning, cloud surrounded the summit craters rolling down the mountain to the level of the birches behind our high camp.

Saying farewell, as we thought, to Etna, whose southern and northern high flanks had been our home for the past week, we began our descent through the lava fields, woods and lower terraced vine-slopes. Across the valley, at Francavilla di Sicilia, we found the town's camping aire, delightfully positioned under eucalyptus trees alongside the wide stony bed of the San Paolo river. That evening as we were preparing supper, we heard detonations which initially we took to be fireworks. Suddenly a local man ran over, pointing up at the mountain and shouting frantically "Etna - fuoco, fuoco (fire)". We stared in amazement at what was happening before our eyes: the entire cone of the distant Etna was glowing red, silhouetted against the night sky. An eruption was in progress: time and again, huge flaring columns of fiery magma rocketed upwards 300m into the air, falling in incandescent fountains down the slopes. Brightly glowing volcanic bombs shot outwards, then a second eruption burst out on the side of the cone as more fiery fountains flared outwards. 24 hours ago, we had been camped up there; how would we have reacted? But here at a distance of 6 miles, we could witness this spectacular volcanic display in security and for the rest of the evening, sat watching the eruption through binoculars. Later the eruption entered another phase: each explosion now sent up even higher into the air incandescent fountains which burst into showers of volcanic ash first glowing red and then scattering in the wind as it cooled to a black-grey colour. Even at this distance, we could hear the explosions bursting into the night sky. It was thrilling to witness such a monumental climax to the Etna phase of our trip. 24 hours earlier and we may have had an all too uncomfortable close encounter with the eruption up at Rifugio Citelli. At night time and at a distance, it was impossible to photograph the eruption, but we have included some library pictures to give an impression of what we saw.

It was now time to move on down to the north-east coast, where we enjoyed a last fleeting view of Etna from the Greek theatre at Taormina. There was little further to detain us along this sordid resort-ridden coastline. Our next port of call would be Milazzo to catch the ferry out to the Aeolian Islands to see more of Sicily's volcanoes, both dormant and active; we hoped to be able to get out to the constantly erupting Stromboli. Join us again shortly for our reports and pictures from the Aeolian Islands.

Sheila and Paul                                                                                                               Published: Friday 1 June

Music this week:
Comu si li cugglieru li bbeddi pira

   Alsace 2006   Greece 2006

   Hungary 2005

   Pyrenees 2005    Slovenia 2004   Greece 2004
Home Page Site Plan Who we are Publications Email Us