Sicily

Everywhere we go, we want to stay. Becuase of this, it was always touch-and-go whether we'd make it to Sicily, but when Andy heard the resident Sicilian volcano, Etna, was 'awake', he was decided. He was going to ride the boot-foot in a day to get there, and I was going with him.

The ride was nothing short of spectacular. The highway hugs the mountainous coastline, and as the twinkling lights of Sicily approcahed, we were on the mainland peninsula, riding a series of bridges and tunnels high above the ocean. We arrived on the island late and bedded down for the night.

We decided to take the road through the mountains to reach Etna the next day, which gave us a wonderful snapshot of Sicilian life. As we wound our way up off the plain, the apparant jungle of unplanned and unfinshed infrastructure (Mafia deals gone wrong?) gave way to hillside limewash and terracotta villages.

The locals were only too happy to chat with an Italian-speaking Australian, and Andy spent much of the day banging on with old (and very short) Sicilian men!

We learnt these villages were experiencing a common problem - the young people were moving out, leaving the old people to look after the village, and no-one to pass on the local customs and traditions to. Nevertheless, we dined on fantastic local fare in Frankavilla, where we ended up spending the rest of the afternoon, walking off the local vino, the strength of which took us totally by surprise!

A few more bends and a few more villages down the road, and it was sunset, and we still hadn't reached the mountain! We allowed the locals to talk us into staying in a B and B (something we haven't done since - we prefer the money in our pockets, and also the adventure of the open road).

We arrived on the mountain early, and she graced us by showing her steaming summit from behind the mist for long enough for us to take a deep breath and a photo.

There is something very powerful about this mountain. The villagers living on it's flanks tell us it it is a 'friendly' mountain - giving warning of eruptions, but usually just letting off steam. It erupts regularly, and the peak and flanks are covered in lava flows.

The peak is 3400 m (quite impressive, as it is only kilometres from the sea). At the end of the road, 1700 m, we declined a ride with the rest of the tourists in a 4wd bus to the first craters, a bit over 2000m above sea level. They were totally taking the piss with the price, at 44 euro each, but also with their smugness.

So, on no breakfast to speak of (breakfast in Italy typically consists of a bowl of caffé latte with biscotti floating in it - hardly mountaineering food) and armed with half a bottle of water, we decided to walk a bit of the way up. We made our own path, firstly up a half-buried t-bar track, you know, just to see what those lava flows are like up close...

Anyhow, several hours later, we were still walking up. We're a good team, so took it in turns to get the shits with the whole project and express strongly our desire to bail out down the mountain for some tucker. Which meant we kept going. Steep, beautiful, and unending.

We went to 2473m, as the tour guide we met there told us, to the edge of a large crater. The crater was one of a dozen or so which had last been seriously active in 2002, when they sent enough lava down the hill to erase the Etna North tourism infrastructure. At the time we were there, though, mere whisps of sulfur-tinged steam issued from the vents, creating a steamy addition to the black, moon-like landscape.

It was a powerful expeirence, and one we were happy to have shared. We took in the view while a busload of tourists came and went, before making our own way back to the bike, and to a welcome meal :)

Having reached our destination, we decided not to take too much more time in Sicily, and after another glorious sunset ride (the coastal town of Taromina is definitely worth a visit), caught the night ferry back to the mainland.