Day 108 – Hiking Mount Etna

It was another noisy night here in Giardini Naxos. It must be a weekend thing because the town was pumping again. Cars revving, people yelling, music somewhere in the distance. I woke up on and off throughout the night listening to the chaos outside. Kia didn’t fare much better. She’s a light sleeper and the noise definitely got to her.

Despite the rough sleep, we were up early because we had a Mount Etna tour booked. Originally the plan was to meet the guide at 10:30, but he messaged asking if we could arrive closer to 9:00. That meant an early start. We were up around 6:00, had breakfast and coffee, packed our gear, and were out the door right on 7:30.

Driving around Sicily continues to be an interesting experience. Speed limits change constantly and it’s almost impossible to keep track of what the correct speed actually is. The GPS might say one thing, the car dashboard something else, and then suddenly a roadside sign appears with another number entirely. Add in speed cameras and it keeps you on edge the whole time.

What makes it even more confusing is that locals seem completely unfazed by it. I’m sticking to what I believe is the limit, yet cars are constantly flying past me. Sicilian drivers clearly operate with a level of confidence that I haven’t quite developed yet.

The drive toward Mount Etna took about an hour and a half as we slowly climbed higher into the mountains. As the volcano came into view, the thing that surprised us most was the snow. There was far more snow than I expected to see on a volcano in Sicily.

About seven kilometres from our meeting point we hit a problem. Police had set up a checkpoint and were stopping cars. When it was our turn, the officer checked our tyres and immediately shook his head.

“No winter tyres. Do you have chains?”

We didn’t.

“Sorry, you can’t drive any further.”

So that was that.

We pulled into a nearby car park and called our tour guide to explain the situation. He was completely relaxed about it and said we could cancel if we couldn’t get there.

While we were figuring out what to do, we started chatting with a group of Italians who were running shuttle trips up and down the mountain. They had some spare seats and offered to take us up with them on their next run. Problem solved.

They were from northern Italy and had driven down specifically to ski on Mount Etna.

Ski on Mount Etna.

That blew my mind. I knew there was snow, but I never imagined people actually ski here. Apparently they’d been skiing the north side the previous day and were heading to the south side today.

The drive up with them revealed something even more surprising. Near the top of the mountain was essentially a small ski village. There were shops, bars, restaurants, parking areas, buses, and even a large gondola running up the slope. It was by far the busiest place we’d seen since arriving in Sicily.

We eventually found our tour guide, paid for the gondola tickets, and got sorted with gear. They issued us sturdy hiking boots and climbing helmets and told us to wait upstairs with the rest of the group. There were about twenty people in total, mostly couples or small groups. We were the only family with kids.

Soon enough we loaded into the gondolas and began rising up the mountain.

The gondola takes you partway up Etna’s southern flank, but from there everything is on foot. Our plan was to hike across and up toward one of the upper craters.

The landscape up there is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Snow blankets much of the mountain, but it’s constantly mixed with dark volcanic ash. Our guide explained that snow often falls, then gets coated with volcanic dust from eruptions or wind-blown ash. More snow falls on top, and over time the layers compress into something that looks almost like a giant frozen biscuit.

One of the most fascinating stories he told us was about how people used to harvest ice here centuries ago. Before refrigeration existed, locals would pack snow into craters and pits, cover it with layers of volcanic soil to insulate it, and let it compress into dense ice. Later they would dig it out, cut it into blocks, and transport it down the mountain to towns and cities where it was used to preserve food.

Mount Etna effectively functioned as Sicily’s natural freezer.

Another thing we noticed was the strange reddish tint across parts of the snow. I assumed it was just volcanic soil staining the surface. But the guide explained something even more remarkable. Much of that colour actually comes from sand blown across the Mediterranean from the Sahara Desert. Strong winds carry the dust northward where it settles over southern Europe, sometimes coating Etna’s snowfields.

Standing there on a snow-covered volcano in Sicily while looking at sand that had travelled from North Africa was a pretty surreal thought.

The hike itself was fantastic. We traversed across the slopes and slowly climbed higher, weaving around old craters and lava formations while the guide explained the volcano’s long and active history. Mount Etna is Europe’s most active volcano and has been erupting for thousands of years, constantly reshaping the landscape around it.

Eventually we climbed to around 3,000 metres near one of the upper craters.

The final few hundred metres required helmets because of the possibility of falling rocks if there were any small explosions or volcanic activity. Thankfully everything was quiet that day.

Kia and I were loving every minute of the hike, but the kids were definitely finding it harder. The altitude, the cold and the long climb started to wear them down. There were a few meltdowns along the way as sore legs, headaches and exhaustion kicked in.

But we kept encouraging them and slowly pushed on until we finally reached the top.

When we arrived, the view was unbelievable. Thick clouds stretched across the landscape below us and it honestly felt like we were sitting in an aeroplane looking out over the sky.

We sat down to eat some lunch on a patch of exposed volcanic ground where the snow had melted. The dark soil absorbs heat from the sun, so it was noticeably warmer there. Unfortunately the ground was still wet, which meant everyone finished lunch with a slightly soggy backside.

Still, sitting at 3,000 metres on the side of an active volcano eating lunch with the kids was a pretty special moment.

The descent was a bit quicker but still challenging. Emmett started to struggle with the cold and the wind, which had picked up quite a bit as clouds rolled in.

We kept telling him the faster we moved, the quicker we’d get out of the wind and back down the mountain.

Eventually we made it back to the gondola station and rode down toward the base.

At the bottom it was one of those classic “exit through the gift shop” moments. You step straight off the gondola and walk into a shop where they’re offering samples of different liqueurs.

After being up in the cold wind on the mountain, it was actually pretty nice to warm up with a few sips.

The flavours though… absolutely terrible. Some of the strangest liqueurs I’ve ever tasted. Definitely not something I’d be buying a bottle of anytime soon.

They were also offering samples of jams and spreads, but I skipped those and wandered around looking at the other items. There were lots of souvenirs made from volcanic rock, carvings and little artworks made from Etna lava stone, which was pretty cool to see.

After that we headed back down to return the hiking boots and helmets and collect our shoes. The kids were keen to get a small souvenir to remember the day, so we picked up a fridge magnet from Mount Etna.

One of the guides had mentioned earlier that he could give us a lift back down to our car. So we found him and he said, “Give me five minutes and I’ll drop you down.”

His car turned out to be a tiny little Fiat. We piled in and started driving.

After a minute I realised we were heading the wrong direction.

“Our car’s that way,” I said.

“No no, you’re down here,” he replied confidently.

I pulled up the map on my phone and showed him where we’d parked.

“Oh… okay.”

He did a quick U-turn and we headed the other way.

Then we got to a T intersection.

“You’re down here,” he said again.

“No, straight ahead,” I replied.

“You sure?”

“Yep.”

You could tell he was slightly frustrated because he clearly thought our car was somewhere else entirely. Eventually though we reached the car park and found our vehicle sitting right where we left it.

We flicked him 20 euro for the effort, which seemed to brighten his mood a bit.

The funny part was that when we got back, the police checkpoint was completely gone. If we’d just waited a bit longer we probably could have driven up ourselves.

From there we drove back to the accommodation. Everyone needed a bit of a reset after the big day. The kids jumped into warm showers and we all had some time to relax.

Later in the evening we headed out for dinner and grabbed gelato from a local spot. The town was buzzing again with people everywhere.

It had been a huge day.

Climbing to 3,000 metres on Europe’s most active volcano, hiking through snow, volcanic ash and Sahara Desert sand is not something we’ll forget anytime soon.