Saturday, December 23, 2017

Europe 2017 - Day 6. Up the slopes of Etna

A dedicated group of tourists (Christine, Andrea, Frank, a reluctant Gustav, and me) met at 8:30 am, with the plan of going as high as we could on Etna. Now, we are here at 1,900 m elevation, and Etna is 3,247 m high, so we were not thinking on doing something crazy like hiking all the way to the top. Rather, more appropriate to our level of fitness, we took the funicular up to 2,500 m elevation, and then a Unimog ride to 2,900 m elevation. From that point the volcano still looked like an impossibly tall and steep mountain, so we opted for the more sensible option of walking around the vents of the 2002 eruption, at a maximum elevation of 3,000 m.

The station where the Unimog dropped us off is at the edge of the March and April 2017 lava flow, a very thick and extensive lava flow that issued fairly high in the mountain and then parted as it hit the 2002 cinder cones. It is amazing to think that in a couple of months the mountain completely modified its topography, and that this happened less than six months ago!

The 2002 eruption started as a fissure eruption, no doubt with some spectacular “fire” curtains, but eventually focused in five vents aligned along the extent of the fissure. The vents are locally known as “La Buttoniere” because they resemble the line of buttons on a shirt. They are pretty impressive deep vents, and by just digging a few centimeters one can feel the steam rising through the tephra. Gustav was hanging behind, enjoying the volcano by himself, so he was just starting the climb when we were on the way down. His “backpack” was a paper bag, bright red and with the logo of the family business, where he had his sunshades and some candy. When he got to the edge of the craters he looked for a nice rock to sit on and relax when, puff, a gust of wind blew the bag over the edge of the crater and down and down it went until it landed near one of the vents. Now, for years and years, tourists from all over the world will be able to see this bright red paper bag down in one of the great wonders of nature, and will shake their heads in disbelief at the way German tourists just throw trash around, oblivious to the importance of keeping our Mother Earth clean.

Joking aside, being so high in the mountain we got some fabulous views of the three peaks that form the summit, from which issues a steady column of steam. It is a harsh world, with very little vegetation, but its raw beauty is mesmerizing.

On the way back we decided to give the Unimog a pass (the tremendous power of these trucks looses its charm very fast), and enjoyed a very nice walk down the slope of the mountain to the point where we had to catch the funicular to get down to the level where our hotel is located.

Boris and Catherine had to go back home today, so we sat in the terrace for a last beer and lots of laughter. Ida, their daughter said goodbye yesterday because she spent the night at a friend who was having a birthday party. Boris and Catherine are a wonderful couple, gregarious and full of good humor, so we were a bit sad of seeing them go. But Etna is pretty regular in its eruptions, so maybe next time there is a good show of volcanic activity we will get the group together again.

As a last gift to us, Boris called one of his friends at a local winery (he seems to know everyone in Sicily and everybody knows him), and in a very colloquial Italian he recommended us to his attention. I should add that Boris is an amazing linguist, who can shift from German to Italian to French to English to Spanish with the greatest ease. So off they went back to Catania, and off we went toward Linguaglossa to taste the Vino della Etna.

The Gambino winery is built on a slope, with wide terraces cut in the hard basaltic rocks. After that heavy part of the work was completed they brought soil from different parts of Etna “to add complexity” to the grapes. Curiously for such a high tech effort, they did not add an irrigation system, as if that were an insult to the art of the wine maker, who every year has to contend with different water budgets and quality of the grapes.

We were received in grand style, by the grandfather who originally took the decision to move from bulk vino di tavola to smaller quantities of quality wine, by one of the two brothers who runs the winery, and a young man who in perfect English introduced us to the history of the place. It turns out that Sicily had a tradition of wine making, but it was somehow lost after World War I, when everybody had to scramble to wrest a living out of their rocky land. This opened the opportunity for Signor Gambino to plan and execute his winery project on a comparatively small plot of land (though they mentioned a second area in the center of the island where they perhaps have a larger plot).

We were then escorted to see the processing plant by the Gambino brother who had greeted us earlier. Gustav made his best to annoy him, by talking over him and suggesting alternative ways to operate the process, until mercifully we were escorted back to the main room, to enjoy the process of having a light lunch and tasting the different types of white, rose, and red wine on offer. It was a delicious afternoon, with a breeze cooling the room, good food, and wines that were being offered with lots of explanations about their bouquets and body characteristics. A perfect Sicilian moment!

And on this high note I will put an end to this telling of my summer trip. I have ahead of me three days of travel before I can reach the house of my parents in Monclova, but most of it will be about jumping from one flight to the other, which is of little interest. It has been a fabulous trip, with many new memories made with friends, new and old. A rivediamo!

Finis

OK, so here is a brief note to let you know that after nearly 18 hours of flying I finally made it to Monclova, where I will spend a week visiting my parents.

In retrospect, I consider myself lucky in that after taking 14 flights (with four more to go from Monterrey, Mexico to Sacramento, California) never once did I miss a flight, nor did I get separated from my backpack. Not bad!

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