Southern Italians call it Mongibello, ‘lovely hill’. To Sicilians it is simply ‘La Montagna’. Geographically it is Etna which rises from the coastal plain to, according to the latest calculations, 3,323 m. Ascend from Catania by car, bus or excursion coach; then cable car; then jeep.

Etna is not the smooth symmetrical dome you admired from afar. It is a bumpy ride, a no-man’s-land of coagulated lava and drifts of grit, without bird or animal or blade of grass. Cones can launch tracer barrages of red-hot cinders, crevices can spout boiling lava and pour out blasts of sulphurous smoke. They have to keep re-routing the cinder-track: it costs money, says Etna’s director, to maintain La Montagna.

Because of the danger of smoke inhalation to tourists, you must now be accompanied by an official guide if you wish to go near the main crater.with its brimming, strangely silent lake of fire. Your guide breaks off pastry-like pieces of lava and tosses them in, trying to stir up some action. Etna does not respond. You remember the tale of Empedocles, the 5thC BC philosopher, who committed suicide by jumping in. Some time later Etna threw out one of his sandals.

Serious eruptions occur every three or four years and with local knowledge can be predicted. The worst in history was in 1669, when Catania, 35 kilometres away, was overwhelmed with ash and lava. Within living memory lava has reached the sea. Six times villagers on the slopes have fled; but they always return. Half-way up there is an excellent hotel, the Grande Albergo Etna. Its restaurant serves the dark, glowing Etna wine. At the end of the road from Catania and the beginning of the cableway stands Rifugio Sapienza at 2,000 m, where meals and beds are provided. In clear weather this mountain commands a view of all Sicily and half of Calabria.