Vulcano Tour Part 2: Stromboli

The magnificent cone of Stromboli!  The huge and obvious crater on top has five very active craters inside spewing liquid magma high into the sky.

Our memories of Stromboli have been dramatically shifted.  Not only full of awe for the fierce display a seemingly angry mother nature put on for us and the unique hikes up and down the desolate slopes but the fact that only two weeks later an enormous and deadly explosion rocked the island just as the evening hikes would have been starting out from town.  https://www.planetxnews.org/huge-explosion-just-rocked-italys-stromboli-volcano/  We are so sorry for the tragedy and so very grateful to have seen Stromboli safely.

The last major eruption before we had arrived was in 2014, cancelling tours to the summit for months.  Prior to that 2007, 2003 saw eruptions and a tsunami caused damage and injury in 2002.  When we paid for our tour we were told that the volcano had been much more active over the past month. We felt a little bit crazy with what seemed a tad risky but the curiosity was too strong.

The village of San Vincenzo is a very laidback little place hugging the coast on the "safer" side of the crater.  The population seem remarkably relaxed about the smoking, rumbling mountain they are living on.

We dragged poor TomTom onto the volcanic rock "beach", clear evidence of Stromboli's activity, with Milly in the crowded anchorage.

Hiking to the rim of the crater is only allowed with a guide.  Giuseppe, our guide, hiked the mountain every day, sometimes twice a day and was a snowboard instructor in France during the winter.  He liked to swim out to that little island in the photo before the hike.  A very friendly, kind and passionate guide who knew every plant and flower, took pictures as if he had never been there before and exclaimed about the colour combination of the blue sea and the yellow broom.   He loved that we were "adventurers".  He made a special hike extraordinary! 

From the green and blossoms of the lower half of the mountain, we moved to ash and rock in the higher portion.  The entire hike up took a sweaty  two and a half hours.

Our first view of the smoking crater was amazing with a sunset background but we weren't yet at the summit.  At this way station, we all put on helmets - Peter and I hadn't been given helmets at the bottom much to Guiseppe's distress.  He gave me his and found Peter one, explaining that they were symbolic - if a rock was thrown at us, the helmet wouldn't do much. In case of a "major explosion" there were two concrete shelters that looked like bus stops at the station - considering there were about 100 people at the top when all the tours were viewing, the shelters, too, were symbolic.  If we were on the summit at the time of a major explosion, well, I realized there was really nothing anyone could do.  At the way station we also changed to a dry t-shirt and put on long pants for the hike down the mountain - more about that later.

Our first view from the rim of the larger crater looking down over very steep ash fields strewn with volcanic boulders at five active craters taking turns exploding with a hiss and roar.  The guides drew a line in the sand telling people not to go beyond the line.  If anyone fell down the steep slope toward the craters, "they would die".  No railings, just a line in the sand - we sure weren't in North America!

This narrow crater was particularly spectacular shooting magma 300 m into the sky with incredible sound effects.  Truly scary!

We could view more of the inside of this larger and closer crater that was continually red hot and chucking rocks over on side where they would roll down the steep slope, leaving an orange trail.

Fireworks are going to seem lame after this - but relatively safe.

We stood at the top of the crater mesmerized and awestruck watching the display for about an hour.  And then the descent began.  Of course it was dark so we each wore headlamps.  The path down was straight down the steep slope which sounds horrendous for knees but in was in 20 cm of ash so was like striding down a hill of very dry, light powder snow.  Long pants kept the ash and small pebbles out of our shoes.  We kicked up a cloud of dust and wore masks covering nose and mouth.  Down the long upper portion, we weren't allowed to stop - the risk of avalanche from hikers above was too great.  It took about an hour and a half to get all the way down to my great relief.  TomTom was waiting as was Milly.  We could see trains of tiny white lights descending down the slope.

The next morning the demarcation between fertile and desolate were obvious.

The trail up is the zigzag of hairpins.  The faint path to the left in the very grey broad band of ash was the path straight down.

Peter took several videos.  This one is the end of an eruption from the narrow crater that shot high into the air.

We were left incredibly exhilarated by this experience.  Unfortunately, the mountain is now closed to tours.  However, I would still say that once the volcanologists give the okay a view from the crater is very worthwhile, even if intimidating.  It was truly amazing!