One of my earliest memories, a snap shot of a scene, is my family on a ferry approaching Sicily. I am at knee high age and look up at my mother pointing to Mt. Etna.  She’s in a flouncy, colourful skirt depicting a village scene and wears dark sunglasses. That memory, and the little Sicilian dolls she bought for my sister and me are the only connection I have to Sicily and Taormina. Over fifty years later I’m back with family and friends and Mt. Etna is a must.

We are anchored off a lovely beach beneath Taormina just around the corner from the famous Isola Bella (beautiful island) and have arranged a half day trip in a jeep to the mountain with a group called Etna Finder. It’s around 50 km from Taormina to the park area of Etna.

Our guide is Antonino (Tony for ease), a lean and slightly grizzly guy with great English which was self-taught online and by watching English speaking stand-up comedians. As we speed off down the freeway he tells us that almost a million people live on “Mumma Etna”. Europe’s most active volcano is a woman he says as she is unpredictable and volatile and must not be taken from granted.

We approach from the east side and once across a small river, just before Calatabiano, we enter the volcanic area. There are fields of citrus trees, mostly lemon, which thrive in the volcanic soil. On the west side of the mountain pistachios are grown in the only pistachio plantation in Italy. They are known locally as “green gold” indicating their economic importance. Wineries are a more recent business.  There are now one hundred wineries dotted around the almost 1200 square kilometres of the Etna area, some growing indigenous grapes. White wine is produced on the east side, red wine on the north of Etna.

We continue climbing along the east side, passing groups of cyclists. “Etna is a sports playground” says Tony, “cycling, skiing, hiking, there is a cycling event each September, 73 kilometres climbing to nearly 3000m.” Milo is the last town before we enter the Etna national park proper. The coastal area is now well behind us and we are in forest of oak and pine trees. It is decidedly cooler now, the air clear, clean and refreshing. Temperatures on the mountain can be up to fifteen degrees lower than on the coast. We pass through small villages carrying Saint’s names like Santa Venerina and Villaggio San Michele. The saints receive a lot of communication during times of eruption, when villagers pray for them to stop the lava flow just short of the village. It appears that sometimes this works, and sometimes it doesn’t.

The last eruption was in March 2017, and it’s unusual to have over a year between eruptions. The locals are well used to, and expect, Etna to do her thing. Tony says he is incredibly privileged to live on the mountain which provides fabulous soil, rain and livelihood. “For men like me, when we wake, we look first up to Mumma, then to our wives…always the mountain first….but don’t tell our wives!”

The large eruption in 1978 lasted 378 days and the eruption of 1992/1993, 473 days. We stop to look at the dried lava river from the 1978 eruption. This huge black stream is compelling and awe inspiring and has clearly collected homes in its passage down the mountain. Remnants of a stone house stand in the middle of the flow. For Tony, being born during the 1978 event makes him a “son of Etna” and he calls it “my eruption”. Being born during an eruption though is “pretty easy,” he says as “eruptions are very, very common”.

On the surface of the lava the first stabilising plants are evident. Lichen clings to the surface of boulders adding a beautiful grey and green. A variety of Valerian shoots up pink and white flowers and the air is fragrant from the yellow blossom of the local curry plant. Over 450 species of plant thrive on Etna and over 200 of these are endemic. Whilst the eruptions are devastating the eventual legacy is volcanic soil rich in silica, iron, magnesium, calcium, potassium and sodium. After the first plants establish and stabilise the area, larger shrubs and trees establish and after a short period of 400 years or so a forest is built. It surprises me, as we continue to climb, to see these huge expanses of pine forest rolling over volcanic craters. Brown cones are scattered amongst the black magma in an artistic contrast.

Tall measuring poles line the side of the road and are used to measure the depth of snow. Another surprise. In 2017 the mountain was covered with 7 metres of snow over the entire winter and through to March. Skiing is popular and skiing during an eruption even more so. Tony describes the crowds of people coming to watch the red molten lava spilling down the mountain-side. He adds “you can ski in an eruption in the morning and drive just over an hour to the beach to eat fish in the afternoon.” He is clearly proud of Mumma and the spectacle she puts on.

Etna also has a series of ice caves, carved out by the passage of lava rivers. We visit one and learn how the Sicilians had, in times long past, used the caves to collect and store ice for trade. Ice was carried down the mountain, sold at the ports and loaded onto boats for transport to neighbouring areas. Most caves are cold, but devoid of ice. One cave “La Grotta del Gelo”, at 2100m on the northern slope of the volcano, has ice all year round and is classified as the southernmost glacier in Europe.

We continue our journey up and now climb on foot. Towards the peak white birch trees stand in stark contrast to their surroundings. This variety, adapted to the local environment with tiny leaves and white trunks to reflect the heat of the black rock and debris, grow only in a patch of foursquare kilometres near the summit.

Hiking on the mountain is quite simply one of the most wonderful climbs I’ve done. It is silent except for the odd bird call and the crunching of feet in unison on the volcanic stones. The rocks and pebbles are unstable. On the downward slopes, down the sides of the craters, we walk sideways one step at a time digging the heel in first. It would be a long and painful slide down if we fell.

Tony pauses on the slopes to draw educational diagrams of the eruptions in the scree. There are four active craters on Etna, he tells us, and 300 old craters. He draws in a line the row of craters we are climbing, clearly showing the lateral eruption pattern on the flank of the mountain. “Boom, Boom,” he says, flinging the debris into the air to show how the eruption throws magma into the air which then lands around the mouth forming the typical volcanic crater. The 300 old craters are “mono genetic”. This means they blow once, deposit lakes of molten lava which cools over time resulting in a large basalt plug. Any future pressure from inside the mountain, coming across this resistance, simply moves on to find another fissure or crease from which to erupt. “Boom, Boom.”

We have climbed to around 2700m. Any higher than 2900m one needs a vulcanologist guide. At that height the landscape is lunar. Here, the landscape sweeps out in front of us. Crater after crater. Some relatively new craters remain black and barren, the older craters and surrounding landscape are greened over completely with pine trees, beech, birch, chestnut and oak. A hawk circles above. Hawks are a common sight, less so the Golden Eagles that live on the peaks. There are around 200 species of bird on the mountain as well as fox, weasels and porcupines.

Beyond the volcano we look out and down to the coast and town of Taormina. The mountain is silent and majestic. We feel a million miles and years from anywhere. We see no one the entire afternoon save for one couple and their dog climbing a nearby crater.

We descend and make our way down and pass through two areas where major roads were blocked by huge lava flows; one in 1865 and one in 2002. The blockages force us to take a bumpy, winding road through forest. “Hang on everyone, we are about to dance,” Tony warns. And we do.  We emerge onto a brand-new road built, very pragmatically, on top of the 2002 lava flow.

Sadly, the day is coming to an end as we watch the sunset over the mountain. It is understandable that Tony is so enamoured with Mumma Etna. This half day has captivated all of us. We’ve fallen a bit in love with Mumma. As Tony puts it “The day could only be made better with an eruption! I would love you to see it!” We pass through some beautiful towns on the way back to Taormina, Linguaglossa and Piedmonte, the latter where Tony was born. His mum has long since moved, my mum is no longer with us. Mumma Etna remains.