Have you ever wondered why people continue to live in the shadow of a breathing volcano with the threat of eruption any moment? I could understand why a certain complacency could have been reached about the verdant slopes of Vesuvius, which has cohabited peacefully with its neighbours for centuries - but Etna - now that's a different scenario altogether.
Dominating the skyline on the east coast of Sicily, The Etna, as it is referred to by Sicilians, gives the odd puff of hot air just to remind you it is alive and well and its white steamy halo acts as an aide memoire , lest you forget it is mistress of all it surveys. Ascending, on a never-ending road of hairpin bend after hairpin bend, the landscape changes dramatically from groves of chestnut (the edible kind) and prickly pear cacti , to a lunar-scape of black ash. This, time and time again, was a gushing force of red-hot lava, which is now cooled to extruded surfaces of contorted shapes, wonderful caves and incongruous foliage. The yellow ginesta makes an almost violent contrast to this otherwise barren grey mountainside. It is the first species to grow after a lava flow, some 90 odd years later, and it is followed soon after by brave little clumps of alpines in the countless crevices.
None but the brave would dream of setting up home again on these slopes, especially when evidence of previous ownership is there for all to see as they pass homes covered to the upstairs windows with solidified lava, their roofs and upper stories curiously intact. What about insurance, I inquired, isn't it impossible? Apparently not. If your taxes are paid you will be covered; besides, the Etna usually gives people plenty of notice before it starts its fireworks!
Another dichotomy is that Etna not only provides celestial pyrotechnics, the last in 1992 and previously in 1988, it doubles as a ski slope in winter and has the most amazing ski runs, resorts and holiday villages. In summer it is a walker's paradise. We travelled as far as Sylvestri Crater from where a cable car took visitors to the very top. This cable car is stopped when the winds get up, even with passengers inside the gondolas. Admittedly the views from up there are spectacular, but they are superb from the ground too!
Mount Etna, for all its wonders and mystery, is only a tiny part of what is Sicily. This island has a population of over five million and, due to its invasions over the centuries by just about everyone from the Greeks to Patton's troops, it has a culture rich in heritage, history and charm. The countryside offers a mini continent in a variety of landscapes, which would do justice to any spaghetti western setting. It changes from mountains to olive, lemon and orange groves, beaches, craggy shores, to cliffs and the wonderful cities and towns perched higgledypiggledy on the tops of mountains and hills. Each is steeped in history and - as the Sicilians are a garrulous, fun-loving lot - they use every excuse for a festival or celebration. They even produce their own wines and spumante (sparkling wine) to do it.
ON the southwest of the island, a two-and-a-half-hour drive from Taormina lies Agrigento. No-one visits this for the modern town, but rather to focus on the remains of Pindar's "most beautiful city of mortals". Here, strung out along a ridge facing the sea, is a series of Doric temples, the most engrossing of Sicilian remains and unique outside Greece. They are believed to have been built in the 5th century BC. Below is an inappropriate modern roadway system, out of place and out of time with the ancient Valley of the Temples, where the most notable is the mammoth construction that was the Temple of Olympian Zeus, the largest Doric temple known.
Taormina is the main city on the eastern side of the island, an hour's drive from Catania Airport and wedged between mountains and precipices rising from the sea. It is an enchanting place, walled and full of sloping, twisting cobbled side streets, the aroma of tempting foods, the noises which are distinctly Italian, the putt putt of Vespas, and above all colour. One street is so narrow it is called that, Narrow Street, and after yet another delicious meal al fresco, I decided not to try and see how narrow it really was!
Taormina is a shopper's delight, its long main street running from one end of this hour-glass-shaped city to the other and packed the whole way with inviting shops stocking everything from jewellery to designer fashion, pottery, leather goods and shoes. There is no pressure to buy and the shopkeepers will engage in conversation with everyone, even if only in sign language. Trattorias and cafes abound and it is part of the pleasure of Italy to sit, sip some vino, enjoy some of the regional specialities of the island and watch the world go by. Life is unhurried and Sicilians know how to enjoy la dolce vita.
At the top of the town lies the remains of the ancient theatre, which offers views fit for any god and which really no words can paint adequately. Here in summer time music festivals, operas and concerts take place and guests sit on the circled stone steps where people sat to be entertained more than two thousand years ago.
A funicular railway takes you down to the beach and town below, a short journey, with a new vista every few feet. Below the blue sea glistens as gentle waves break and frill the rocks, mainland Italy can be seen in the distance, fishing boats make their way home with their catches, and you can see why Sicilians brave the beast of the mountain and want to live there, in the shadow of the volcano - for even in paradise there must be light and shade.