Trekking Up Mt. Etna: Sicily’s Charming Active Volcano

As we reached eastern Sicily that chilly January morning, Mount Etna towered impressively in the distance. I could see the wisps of steam billowing from its snow-covered peak, reminiscent of extinguished candles on a hastily frosted birthday cake. Fittingly, I was embarking on a milestone birthday road trip across Sicily, journeying from Palermo to Catania. My penultimate destination was Mount Etna, Europe’s most active and tallest volcano, standing at 10,900 feet. Scientists estimate that Etna has been active for over 500,000 years, watching over Sicily long before humans ever set foot here.

I’m quite familiar with volcano hikes, having conquered several active stratovolcanoes (composite volcanoes) throughout my life, from New Zealand’s Tongariro to Nicaragua’s Concepción. Italy is the sole country on mainland Europe with active volcanoes, primarily due to its position near two tectonic plates. Vesuvius, the most infamous of them, buried and preserved the ancient cities of Pompeii and Herculaneum during a catastrophic eruption in 79 A.D. Stromboli has experienced regular minor eruptions for centuries. Although Mount Etna hasn’t had a major eruption since the notorious event of 1669, its numerous eruptions in 2023 dominated headlines with stunning images of lava soaring into the sky. When I imagined Sicily, I envisioned turquoise waters, breathtaking cathedrals, quaint villages, ancient ruins, and, of course, delicious cuisine (especially pasta alla Norma). I never envisioned a nearly perpetually bubbling volcano that locals ski on during winter.

One might wonder why anyone would choose to climb a potentially explosive volcano. It’s a valid question and touches on the intriguing world of volcano tourism, which has surged (no pun intended) in popularity as eruptions have captivated global attention—think of Kīlauea in Hawai’i and Fagradalsfjall in Iceland—even as these eruptions impact local economies.

Volcano tourism attracts thousands of visitors to Sicily every year. Surrounding Mount Etna are ten municipalities, several small villages with populations of fewer than 5,000, who rely heavily on the influx of volcano tourists. Since its recognition as a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2013, Etna has become one of Sicily’s fastest-growing attractions. The Parco dell’Etna has implemented measures to manage visitor numbers and protect the volcano’s integrity: this includes limited parking, steep access fees, and a strong recommendation to join guided tours. The cable car to the trailhead (8,202 feet) costs 50 euros per person. Due to the unmarked paths and ever-changing landscape, the guidance of experienced volcano guides is essential. Visitors can hike alone up to approximately 9,000 feet, beyond which a guide is required for both safety and environmental preservation.

A mountain of shifting emotions

On the morning of our hike, my rental car reluctantly navigated the winding roads from Nicolosi to Rifugio Sapienza (6,266 feet above sea level) within Parco dell’Etna. As we approached the volcano's southern slopes, we were treated to views of the sparkling sea, villas adorned with citrus trees peeking over their gates, and small family vineyards thriving in the fertile volcanic soil.

After picking up gourmet deli sandwiches for our upcoming lunch (because it’s Italy), we took the cable car to meet our volcano guide, Vincenzo Greco. Vincenzo, a local volcanologist and second-generation Etna guide, studied geology at the University of Catania and holds the record as the youngest certified volcanology guide in Italy.

We began our ascent, eager to burn off days filled with Sicilian cannoli, as we hiked through the Valle del Bove. Our winter-tanned guide, Vincenzo, introduced us to the volcano, detailing which eruptions shaped the landscape. He pointed out the age of various rock ledges and the changes that have occurred over the last decade. Just six weeks before my visit in November, a new vent opened at the southeast crater near 9,200 feet. A second vent appeared three days later, releasing fresh lava. By December, the lava flows had reached Valle del Leone and the larger Valle del Bove, forming a lava field and occasionally belching ash amidst the steam and gases. The flows were expected to cease by February, further reshaping Etna’s terrain.

Everything here is in constant flux. I thought back to the homes we passed on our way in, squarely in the path of Etna’s fury should she ever decide to erupt. Given the winding roads and altitude, escape wouldn’t be an option if something were to occur. You really must have a deep affection for the volcano, Vincenzo remarked, or at least a fondness for living alongside it, or perhaps just a hint of stubbornness.

Vincenzo shares a passionate yet tumultuous relationship with Etna. He adores the volcano, but their disputes are, well… volcanic. He observes her moods and has learned her quirks. Once, he flew a drone over an eruption, only for the heat to melt his camera. Though it was a costly error, the few photos he managed to capture were breathtaking.

About thirty minutes into our hike, Vincenzo crouched down by a large crevasse nestled between two rocks. “Feel this!” he exclaimed, brimming with excitement. “But be cautious.” I leaned in, waving my hand around until I was met with a burst of scalding heat against my skin. It was a small steam vent—Etna’s way of greeting us. The power of that invisible heat caught me off guard, serving as a reminder of how easily one can become complacent up here. This is no ordinary hill. Due to the unmarked trails and the ever-shifting landscape, Vincenzo and his fellow guides often find themselves rescuing tourists when Etna is in a temperamental mood.

As our hiking group rounded a bend, we encountered a lava tunnel left by a past eruption. We squeezed into the constricting passage one at a time, with towering rock walls on either side blocking out the sunlight. Walking along the path of a recent river of molten red lava served as a stark reminder of Etna’s might.

A crunchy layer of snow blanketed the black lava rocks throughout our journey, transforming the landscape into a monochrome scene whenever clouds drifted in to obscure the cerulean sky. Typically, at this time of year, hikers would need snowshoes or cross-country skis along with their hiking boots. Instead, Sicily was experiencing unusually warm weather. We paused for lunch as a distant crater emitted billowing white clouds, shedding our jackets under the bright sun. Next, we were headed to one of Etna’s four main craters, rising over 10,000 feet above sea level.

In certain areas, the crater rim narrowed to the width of two footsteps side by side on loose lava pebbles. The winds whisked the sulfur scent away. I gazed at the clouds far off, a white blanket draped over the valley. Above, the sun blazed from a clear blue sky. While the black lava rocks absorbed the sunlight, the white snow was nearly blinding. For a fleeting moment, I became disoriented, feeling as if I could walk onto the blanket of clouds thousands of feet above the ground. Perhaps it was the altitude, the sulfur, and the rush of adrenaline, but I felt momentarily euphoric in this surreal environment. In that instant, I understood Etna’s allure. I grounded myself by peering down into the crater, its depths so profound they were shrouded in darkness. As I circled the crater, a dizzyingly steep drop came into view. With a flourish, Vincenzo appeared to leap off the ledge. Was my guide really meant to jump? Would I become ensnared by Etna forever?

The descent proved to be arguably more challenging than the climb. Vincenzo dashed down the steep slope of loose lava pebbles, prompting others to follow. Not wanting to tumble down a cascade of jagged rocks, I opted to switchback. Each sideways step caused my boots to sink deep into the ground, reminiscent of trying to walk across a ball pit. My shoes quickly filled with lava rocks. It was time to embrace the chaos. With hiking poles in hand, I “skied” down Mount Etna, sending mini avalanches of lava rocks tumbling with each leap. The lava rocks felt surprisingly springy at that pace.

As we reached the cable car, the scenery shifted dramatically. We had descended through the clouds, and everything around us was shrouded in gray. The beautiful seaside views had vanished, engulfed by fog. I attempted to steal one last look at Etna from below, but she was lost, retreating into her own realm.

Essential Information Before You Go

How to Get There

Sicily is served by two main airports: Palermo Airport (Falcone Borsellino Airport) on the western side and Catania Airport (Vincenzo Bellini Airport) on the eastern side. Catania is roughly an hour’s drive from Mount Etna, while Palermo is about three hours away.

Accommodations

The town of Nicolosi serves as the gateway to the southern access of Mount Etna.

Hotel Alle Pendici is a charming nine-room B&B adorned with framed photographs of Mount Etna across the seasons. The rooms are simple yet inviting, exuding a cozy ski chalet vibe.

Blanc Maison Etna is a quaint five-room B&B situated next to a beautifully landscaped park. Guests can enjoy views of the pool, the garden, or the volcano from their rooms.

Recommended Tour Operators

The Society of Guides Vulcanologiche Etna Nord provides a range of tours led by certified volcano guides, including our guide, Vincenzo.