March 2, 2025 - Piano Vetore (Etna)

My alarm goes off early today, only a few morning people can be seen in the Piazza del Duomo in Catania. I tie on my boots and walk out of the hotel. Walking dressed as a mountaineer with a backpack and boots in a seaside town feels a little strange to me, but I smile and I walk toward the station.

I get off the bus at the crossroads for Piano Vetore. As soon as I get off, an ice-cold wind hits me. It is my first time in Sicily, the land of the sun, but today the weather seems more like that of my beloved Alps.

Etna is covered by clouds, I take the Altomontana track and walk toward the last lava front. Beneath my feet I hear crunching lava rocks, now reduced to a kind of compacted sand. The lunar environment soon turns into a majestic coniferous forest. The last thing I expected was to find such lush scrub on the slopes of an active volcano.

Footprints in the snow show me the way. In between photos, I gain altitude until I find the path barred. Here I am in front of the last lava flow. It is no longer bright red now, but black. By keeping silence you can hear it murmuring: the stones, as they fall, create a jingle that echoes through the valley. The lava is alive and, even if imperceptibly, it continues to move.

I enjoy the spectacular view, the metamorphosis of Etna, then I head back to the Piano Vetore. This taste of Sicily has given me the charge for the days ahead!

March 3, 2025 - Vulcano

I leave Catania while it's still night. The day has a very tight schedule, but energy is at its maximum. Joining me on this Aeolian Islands adventure are Massimo, volcanological guide, Gianluca, photographer-videomaker, and Alessandro, hiking guide.

Once in Milazzo, we board the first hydrofoil to Vulcano. As a good mountaineer, I fear seasickness. I sit in the seats in front and concentrate on the view in front of me: mountains, or rather volcanoes, rise from the depths of the sea. I feel at home. Enthusiasm is high, legs can't wait to start walking.

Once we get off at Vulcan Harbor, we head up the mountain. At the trailhead there is a traffic light indicating if you can go up or not - it all depends on the CO2 emission values. It is green, we can go!

The path soon becomes scenic: Lipari and Stromboli can be seen on the horizon. While munching on some pistachios, kindly offered by Massimo, I turn my eyes upward to the vertical walls and observe the marks left by lava flows and rock formations. It's all so amazing.

Arrived at the crest of the caldera, the scenery is incredible! I had never been so close to a volcano. On either side of the great cone, sulfur-rich fumes rise up. We reach the highest point to enjoy the view, then return to the café in front of the harbor, waiting for the second hydrofoil of the day that will take us to Stromboli. The adventure has just begun!

March 3, 2025 - Stromboli

Getting off the hydrofoil, I see two children waiting for their father at the port and elderly gentlemen riding their Ape Piaggios waiting for supplies. It's like a moment of celebration: people are smiling, chatting and joking. The atmosphere is warm, comforting. It's about 4 p.m. and although I would like to spend hours observing island life, we can't waste more time; we have to get on the road right away, because the spectacle of the Stromboli doesn't admit delay.

We walk up the narrow streets of the village and gain altitude. The asphalt road turns into a path immersed in reeds. The island of Strombolicchio, with its lighthouse, is hit by the golden light of sunset.

Some goats keep us company along the ascent, jumping from bush to bush undisturbed. Some rapacious birds fly in the sky.

Being accompanied by a volcanological guide, we leave the detour for the “Sciara del Fuoco” - path for those who want to admire it on their own - and take the other path, which climbs steeply to the Stromboli lookout. The sun is a fireball, half seems to have been eaten up by the sea.

I place my backpack on the wooden bench, put on my down jacket - it's getting cold - and get my camera ready. Every 15 to 20 minutes the Stromboli is supposed to erupt. Today, however, it turns out to be a bit lazy, but it still makes a spectacle of itself. Although for my companions what we are seeing are only small puffs, for me it is an exciting event. The adrenaline is high! I try to capture every second - not always with great results. I am so involved that I feel neither hunger nor thirst.

Night falls down on us, and even if I would like to stay for hours there to admire the Stromboli erupting, it is time to go downstairs to take a shower, eat dinner and most of all to rest. Tomorrow another island awaits us!

March 4, 2025 - Panarea

New day, new ride! Here I am again on a hydrofoil. My eyes are still small, sleepy, but the ride allows me to carb up.

Arriving in Panarea, Massimo shows me on a map painted on a majolica tile set into the wall the highlights of our loop route.

Panarea is a little gem, every house, every alley is cared for to the smallest detail, nothing is out of place.

After a short climb among the white-painted houses, we descend to the Calcara beach to admire the fumaroles. Panarea, in fact, is not an active volcano, but its origin is volcanic: the smell of sulfur fully witnesses the activity under our feet.

From now on it will be all uphill, but we keep a steady pace. It may be that we are at sea level, that there is a lot of oxygen, but my body doesn't feel the effort. I would like to scream for a miracle. Where the path steepens, comfortable steps make the progression easier. The view behind us is majestic; the Stromboli never stops puffing.

We reach Punta del Corvo, which, with its 421 meters above sea level, is the highest point of the island. There is a 360-degree view on the other islands: Alicudi, Filicudi, Stromboli, Lipari and Vulcano.

The steep descent begins. In some cases we have to secure ourselves to the rocks with our hands. Reaching the flat area, we feel a strange presence behind us, I turn around and see a donkey and two mules intent to follow us. We stop to cuddle them, then we continue to Cala Junco.

On the Cala Junco peninsula there is a prehistoric village: not a bad place to live! The clear-water bays are attractive, to say the least, even for someone like me who doesn't like the sea or even the idea of lazing in the hot sun.

One last effort and here we are back at the port. It is time to sail back to Milazzo and return to Catania.

March 5 2025 - Etna

I couldn't fly back to Piedmont without first climbing Mamma Etna. An immense gift.

After a coffee at Rifugio Sapienza, we take the cable car and reach an altitude of 2.500 meters. We leave the station and immediately a surreal world appears in front of my eyes: snow expanses cover Etna's black slopes and create some kind of crevasses. I feel like I am on a glacier in the Alps. My body has gone from sea level to alpine altitudes in a short time, we take our first steps and I feel it has to recalibrate myself. After half an hour, I feel my cells exult: I am in my comfort zone!

We take a few breaks from time to time to enjoy the view and listen to the stories of Massimo, our volcanological guide. I put my hand under the ground and when I pull it out, it is warm. This mountain is alive, it is constantly changing, every year it changes its appearance. This detail makes me think a lot: I'm used to mountains that are defined, that transform but in a very long time.

We arrive at more than 3.000 meters of altitude - the maximum limit for safety reasons - and reach the “wound” from which the last magma, that of the lava flow of the first day, has spilled. The white color of the snow contrasts with the black of the solidified lava, while the fumes escaping from the earth create a surreal, spatial atmosphere.

Time flies, we look at the clock, and there are thirty minutes to the last cable car. The top station is a small dot below. We have to run down, on inconsistent snow.

Thank you Etna, thank you Aeolian Islands, thank you Sicily. You have entered my heart!