Ascent of Etna

Abstract

IT was a bright sunny sky on the last day of April when we started, with Giuseppe Sedici as guide, from the Grand Hotel at Catania in a carriage and pair bound for Nicoloni, en route to the summit of Etna. A dusty drive of two and a half hours, and we were at the door of the inn in the centre of the village. Its appearance was somewhat forlorn, and its fare rather meagre, but the civility of mine host compensated for all other defects. Here we engaged two mules, a porter, and a driver, an operation which took more than two hours, and then set off again for the Casa del Bosco, which we reached in the middle of the afternoon after a ride of two and a quarter hours. A climb up a neighbouring hillock to see the sunset, dinner, and a few hours' rest filled up the time till 11 p.m., when we started off again and rode for about half an hour, till the appearance of snow made it necessary to dismount and continue the remainder of the journey on foot. Our guide was very slow, and on any attempt to force the pace stood still and ejaculated: “Fermo, Signore! Piano, Piano!” so that we did not arrive at the Casa Inglese till 5 a.m., and were obliged to content ourselves with seeing the sun rise from here instead of from the top, as we had intended. It did not much matter, as it was a cloudy morning, and the view was very poor, but still it was a disappointment. The Casa Inglese was covered with snow to the eaves of the roof, the observatory buried altogether, the Val del Booe a sea of white. After a short rest we trudged on again; so far it had been good walking up an easy ascent of crisp snow, but now it became a work of difficulty to pick one's way through deep drifts and treacherous-looking holes, which seemed to explain the guide's reluctance to undertake this part of the route by moonlight. Arrived however at the foot of the cone, the snow ceased, and a heavy climb up the frozen side under a biting wind began. Half way up matters were not improved by a severe attack of sickness; but at length the top was reached at 6.20 a.m. There was no distant view; within the crater the steam and smoke kept being blown hither and thither, and cleared off at times sufficiently to show parts of what looked like a bottomless pit. It was a curious and weird sight altogether, and well repaid the fatigues of the journey. During the descent the notes of the cuckoo and some very sweet violets found by chance under the snow reminded us that, notwithstanding the mountain's wintry mantle of white, it was really spring time, and that the morning sun had ushered in the merry month of May, a fact which we had well nigh forgotten but a few hours before, when our fingers were numb with cold and our ears threatened to become a thing of the past.