Day 5 Part IV
As the bus meandered its way on the road to Mount Etna, the trees, shrubbery and weeds eventually gave way to dark grey and black soil and rock. In some areas, there were massive piles of rocks that had been maneuvered by heavy construction equipment; in other areas, the rock and soil was left untouched. The shades of black and dark gray rock and soil were indicative of the different times when Mount Etna erupted; the last eruption was in 2002, according to our guide. In areas covered with lava from earlier eruptions (such as from 1983), flowers, small trees and other plant life has begun to reappear. The lava from the 2001 eruption was darker for some reason; perhaps it has something to do with the oxidization of the lava as it cools. In some areas one could notice steam, still rising from the remnants of the lava from last year’s eruption.
Along the road were several structures buried in the now-hardened lava. There was a church complex where the church and the structure where the priests resided was either destroyed or buried in lava from the 1983 eruption, whereas the structure where the nuns stayed was miraculously left untouched. All of the structures in this church complex were white with salmon-coloured shingled roofs — not extravagant by any means. Even as some of the damaged structures that remained dotted along the road up Mount Etna showed evidence and proof as to why one should not build anything on the mountain itself, there was already construction of a new and expensive hotel complex, as well as a new highway system that was under construction. If you suffer losses in the future as a result of eruptions from Mount Etna, don’t say you were not warned, I thought to myself. Some people will never learn...
As we ascended up the mountain, the warm, humid air was slowly replaced with chilly, damp air. The peak of Mount Etna, enshrouded for most of the time in the low, ominous cloudiness, appeared in its partially-snow-covered glory, with the patches of white snow starkly contrasting with the almost-black mountain itself. Low clouds haphazardly hung around the mountain like a loose towel barely covering the intimately private areas of a person.
We arrived at a small village on the mountainside for what was to be lunch. We stopped at a small cafeteria where busloads of people converged all at once. As a result, long lines went out the door, waiting for food. I walked around to see what the food looked like, and again it looked unappetizing, yet it was expensive, and there was only one hour to eat. Of course, the tour guides and bus drivers knew the proprietors of this establishment and go to cut ahead of the line to receive their provisions. They had plenty of time to eat. Screw the tourists, their aura seemed to convey as they sat at their table, eating and joking and exchanging stories, while people had to fend for themselves waiting in line to eat expensive, less-than-appetizing food.
Anyway, I had two choices: remain hungry, as I had not eaten breakfast (save for some snacks), or search for someplace else. Remaining hungry was not an option for me. I had to eat. If I waited on that long line, I probably would not get to eat. I ventured outside. This cafeteria was in a small touristy shopping area which had nothing but souvenir shops, so there was no other place to eat on the same side of the street as the cafeteria.
I decided to venture across the street and up the incline (we were on a mountain, after all) to search for provisions, at which that time the clouds decided to open wide and dispense a hard, frigid wet rain upon my person. I had no umbrella or jacket. As I trudged across the street past the throngs of parked buses to another establishment, it had a limited variety and few customers. Not satisfied with their limited offerings (such as ice cream, snacks and other items which would not qualify for a meal), I then went next door, which was some dozen or so meters away, and up slippery wet wooden steps besides. This place, which offered counter service only, also had a limited selection, but there were no other customers and they had more of a variety at more reasonable prices. The person behind the counter was also friendly and helpful. I ordered the baked ziti, a cream-filled pastry and a bottle of water for about 7 Euros, which is not bad compared to the prices at the original location for lunch. They did not accept credit cards, so I had to pay in cash, as I found I would have to do many times in Europe.
I do not recall the name of any of the places to eat, nor the name of this village, as I was cold, wet, hungry, tired, frustrated, and walking with aching legs left over from the cramped condition I was in on the bus. I was not going to let all that get to me, however. I managed to take pictures and video-tape Mount Etna anyway on this cold, rainy late morning.
I returned to the cafeteria and actually found a place to sit. After I finished eating, I noticed that some of the people that were on line were still waiting in line! Trying to be helpful, I told them about the place across the street where I got my food, but they ignored me for the most part. I would have still been waiting in line at this point (after I had already finished eating) had I not gone across the street. Anyway, the food that the other people on the tour ordered in the cafeteria did not look nearly as appetizing as my food.
Lesson: Do not be like a sheep and follow the herd, even if on a tour. I prefer to remain independent even when on tour. Most of the time whenever I travel, I have been better off being independent.
Quite frankly, I sensed that favoured treatment was afforded to the owners of both establishments for breakfast and lunch simply because they seemed to have “connections” with the tour group, rather than select better places which could accommodate large crowds. Incentives must have abounded somewhere in the contract negotiations with these places. Corruption and politics are everywhere, I thought to myself.
Once lunch was over, the buses sounded their piercing loud horns just as I was scrambling to get the last of my video footage. I also picked up one of the black lava rocks off the ground as a souvenir. They literally have billions of tons of this stuff lying around all over the landscape, I thought to myself. They surely will not miss one baseball-sized rock. The rock was light and porous, making it easy to carry in my camera bag. At this point, the rain lightened to a drizzle. It was still very cloudy, but the peak of Mount Etna was finally fully visible and clear.
I noticed where the street ended was a black dirt (lava) road on which many people were walking in both directions. It looked almost like the surface of the moon, with all the black rocks and dirt contrasting against the light grey sky, as silhouettes of people walked surrealistically along its surface. There was a circular traffic sign that was blue with a red circle and a red X, indicating the international symbol for Do Not Enter.
We all eventually got back on the bus. The bus heads towards the end of the street. The bus driver attempts to get onto the wet, muddy dirt road. The bus stops. Pedestrians look around the front of the bus as we heard a dull thud against what appears to be a large stone. At the same time we had thought about possibly pushing the bus onto the dirt road, the pedestrians seemed to entertain the thought of trying to remove the obstacle(s) that was (were) in the way of the bus.
The bus is now stuck...