An hour to our destination and an early morning start means that it is time for a post-breakfast/pre-lunch nap on the deck of our boat. We are on our way to the volcanic island of Stromboli, and its active 1000 meter-high volcano. Surrounded by other islands big and small across the landscape and still not out in the open sea, the boat chugs along serenely. Soon the island and its volcano becomes faintly visible, anticipation cutting short my nap. The volcano towers over the rest of the landscape, its peak faintly visible from the smoke originating from its vents.

Stromboli is the second volcano that we will hike and study, in our trip to the Aeolian Islands. The hike is expected to take about 3 hours, and our group of about 25 people have been assigned a guide, since it is forbidden to climb without one. He has reserved a storeful of hard hats and other safety equipment (face masks, shoes) for us, and each one of us is issued some gear for the climb. It is the middle of May, stiflingly hot, and the plan is to start the ascent in the late afternoon so that the sunset provides an ideal contrast for witnessing the explosions atop the volcano. That means we have a couple of hours before the climb, a time spent enjoying a granita and completing my nap.

It is almost 1430h by the time we start the hike. Our guide, a guy about my age, is very particular about order and pace, and so we maintain a consistent (consistently slow, in my opinion!) pace. It is a gentle beginning, leaving the small huts of the town behind as we move towards the volcano. Small shrubs and other vegetation is shrugged aside as we tread the oft-hiked path to the peak. As with Vulcano, the vegetation quickly gives way to a bare, ash-laden surface. The hats do not help with the heat, so they are quietly dispensed to our backpacks, only to re-emerge later. It is a not a difficult climb, just a gentle increase in elevation around occasional bends. We take occasional breaks to catch breath and take photos of the landscape, and of ourselves. Huddled together while having bananas, we discuss volcanic styles, volcanism at Stromboli, the history of the volcano and volcanic disaster risk reduction. For field scientists, this is a moment to savour.

About halfway to the top, the first sounds of the roar of the volcano are heard. By now, the town of Stromboli is faint in the distance, while the Tyrrhenian Sea extends far and wide. Soon enough, we come across one of the few checkpoints of the hike – a bunker meant to protect researchers and other visitors from stray bombs exploding from the surface of the crater. Since researchers frequently visit Stromboli to analyse its activity, the bunker is an important safety infrastructure present for times of emergency. Volcanic beds are seen left and right – rows of neatly-stacked layers of soil as vestiges of eruptions past. Meanwhile, the volcanic explosions get louder, rhythmic and more frequent. We are almost there!

The memory of the last few steps is drowned by the roar of the volcano. At the top, surrealism awaits! We are right at the edge of level ground, beyond which there is a massive bowl-shaped crater, at whose base are 4 volcanic vents. The vents explode at a frequency of every 10 minutes, with bombs of rock and other material exploding from its surface. It is almost like a game, predicting which vent would be activated next.

Apart from the volcano itself, nothing can be heard. Nobody speaks a word. Minutes pass by and still nothing. Many of us are finally restored to reality by the sounds of the next group of people climbing to experience Stromboli for themselves. Our time at the volcano is over, we have to make way.

It doesn’t end meekly. This incredible experience is wrapped up by a peculiar descent. We are at the top of a massive mountain of ash. Many evenings spent on playground slides come roaring back as we are asked to slide down on volcanic ash to go down and get back to civilization. What took us 3 hours to climb up, barely takes 45 minutes to climb down.

‘Uno quatro stagioni, per favore!’ It was past lunchtime, and the small town of Milazzo was in the middle of an afternoon nap. I found myself a pizzeria off the main square while I was waiting for my ferry to Vulcano, one of the 7 volcanic islands (together called the Aeolian Islands) in the Tyrrhenian Sea off the Sicilian coast. Milazzo is a hub for tourists and holidaymakers out to catch a ferry to these islands, but we were there much too soon before the start of the holiday season. The ferry itself was uneventful – the sea was calm and clear, surely a relief for passengers prone to sea-sickness. A little under two hours later, we were at Vulcano.

Vulcano is home to the La Fossa volcano and a famous hot spring. A rotten egg smell pervades through the island due to Sulphur discharges from La Fossa and the hot springs. As expected, the island itself has the distinction of having a style of volcanism named after itself, the Vulcanian type of volcanic eruption. The 320m-high La Fossa, which last erupted in 1889-90, dominates the landscape. The morphology of the volcano itself is peculiar – halfway to the top, bare earth and intermittent vegetation gives way to black ash. It is unlike anything I have ever experienced before.

Our hotel was right beside the beach, offering a stunning view of the sea and the islands of Alipudi and Filicudi in the far distance. The activity on the island is usually restricted to the area around the port, and it is here in the evening that we treat ourselves to a granita at an outlet with branches spread as far as Australia. Granita is a delicious flavoured iced slush (available with or without cream, depending on your inclination), and one can accompany the granita with a brioche, a rich and tender pastry.

The trek to La Fossa starts a few hundred metres from our hotel. A signpost is testimony to this, its weathered state having stood the test of time and apathy. The winding path starts on solid mounds of bare earth, but the last part involves walking on ash. Vegetation is scarce and decreases rapidly with ascent. Barely 10 minutes into the trek, a refreshment van comes into view. Since the La Fossa ascent is suitable for trekkers of all ages, the van can serve as a first pit stop for groups aiming for a rather leisurely ascent to the top.

The trail itself is fascinating: as we gain height, the other islands in the island chain come into view in the far distance, along with glimpses of the clear waters of the Tyrrhenian Sea, so clear that one can see the ripples created by ferries and cruise vessels in the water. Large and small volcanic rocks are strewn across the landscape: remnants of volcanic eruptions past. While there is only one major trail to the top, prominent signboards present at each curve are no doubt reassuring for nervous trekkers.

Our first and only stop is a flat outcrop of land about 200m from the top. This area provides a 270 degrees view of the landscape. Filicudi and Alicudi are smokey in the distance from the gas releases on top of their resident volcanoes. The narrow strip of land to Vulcanello comes brightly into view, with Lipari behind it.

The last 200m ascent is almost a blur, lost in the excitement of experiencing a volcanic vent. It exceeds expectations: the vent is a conic-shaped figure, with smooth tapering at the edges, on which I currently stand. Rotten egg is the dominant smell around us, from the numerous small vents spread out all across the body of the vent, spewing out yellow-coloured Sulphur gas into the atmosphere. While continued concentrated exposure to Sulphur can be dangerous, right now the exposure is below threat levels. A small monitoring station of the INGV (the Italian national institute for the study of volcanoes) stands to measure gaseous concentrations in real-time. Other trekkers are visible all across the top of the vent, looking out for good spots for capturing the landscape and of the volcano itself.

I am like an excited kid, speechless and spell-bound. Multiple photos later, we sit down for a quick lunch. Lunch on the fringes of a volcano! There are good days, and then are days like this one.