Destruction and creation in equal measure

note: this post is back dated to September 29th. It was originally hand written in my travel journal during my recent vacation in Italy. The first post in that series is here: "Well, I'm back."

FOUR
I miss my dog.

Thursday, September 29, 2005.
   Today is my fifteenth wedding anniversary.



   Mt. Etna is Europe's highest (at 3315 meters altitude) and most active volcano. In fact, it is considered by some to be the second most active volcano on the planet. It erupted most recently in 2003, and has a constant stream of steam and smoke issuing from it. It is also the volcano with the longest recorded history of activity, with confirmed eruptions dating back as far as 1500 BC. In antiquity, the mountain was believed to house the forge of the Greek god Hephaestus, and later, his Roman counterpart Vulcan (from whose name we take the word volcano).
   We were supposed to go there today with Joe, a friend of my Father-in-law, who is visiting his mother here. Unfortunately, she became ill, and he had to cancel, so Ciccio took us instead. As we drove along the Autostrada on the way to Catania, we came upon a stretch of highway that presented a clear view of the mountain, so I rolled down the window, stuck my camera out, and took a picture. Later, we marveled over the fortuitous positioning of the road sign in my random snap. It certainly was pointing the way to where we were headed.

   The road up the mountain is new, the old one having been covered by the flow from the 2003 eruption. It curves back and forth across a barren landscape of jagged black rock, almost reaching the tree line on either side before abruptly turning back toward the center of the eerie, dead fields of lava. As time goes by, the forest will slowly move inwards over the lava flow, like an occupation force. The advance scouts are already out, in the form of patches of mosses and lichens, establishing a first foothold in enemy territory. Following close behind are the scrub grasses, sproutingwherever dying moss has combined with crumbled lava to form a rudimentary soil. As each successive cycle of life and death adds more organic material to the mix, the larger, bushy plants will eventually move in, to be followed in time by the full sized trees, whose roots serve to crush the lava rock into smaller pieces and, at the same time, holdit in place. Slowly, the frontier will be pushed back, until, in several decades, it will be almost impossible to tell that the lush forest one is hiking through on the mountainside was once burned away and paved over by nature.
   Also new, at just under 2000 meters of elevation, is the tourist area. It, too, was completely destroyed in 2003, and has been completely rebuilt in impressive fashion. The wide, smooth, freshly paved road and parking lots, the massive, chalet style restaurant buildings, the cable car system, the heli-pad, none of which was here eighteen months ago, all speak to the amount of tourist money flowing through this place. We took the cable car up to 2500 meters elevation to have a look around. From there, it is possible to take a guided tour up to 2960 meters elevation, about 350 meters shy of the summit, but we didn't want to spend the extra money to do so.

   OK, truthfully, we didn't want Ciccio to spend the extra money for us to do so. It's not like he was going to let us pay. Between Ciccio, his father, Pat's Zio Giovanni, and Pat's other Zio Mario, we were not allowed to pay for anything during the trip. Early on, we managed to pay for our espressos and granites at the bar one morning, but after we slipped that one by him, Giovanni started a tab, and instructed the bar owner not to take our money again. It's nice going on vacation and not having it cost you anything, but there is a limit to how much you can take for free and not feel guilty about. We let Ciccio pay for the cable car ride because once we were in line, he wouldn't let us back out, but we demurred on the further jeep ride up to the top.

   In the winter, Etna is a ski resort. It is the only place in Sicily where snow can be relied upon to fall in sufficient volume. As we ascended in the cable car, we could look down on the smaller t-bar lifts running up various short portions of the mountain, and trace out the path the ski runs would follow. I can only imagine the machinesnecessaryto gouge those pathwaysout of the jagged lava fields, and, grinding the knife sharp rock into black sand, spread it along the way. In places the distinctive  quadruple herringbone patterns of hikers' footprints and climbing poles could be seen, following the cable car towers to the top, or, perhaps back to the bottom.
   Back at the bottom, in the souvenir shop, we bought a kit containing examples of all the various types of volcanic rock that, almost certainly, came from somewhere else. Etna makes black and red basalt, and that's about it. Oh, and a profit.



   Later that night we had dinner at Ciccio and Concetta's, where they surprised us with a cake and champagne.

tags:Family, Italy vacation