Under the Volcano in Guatemala

Earlier this year, Pacaya Volcano in Guatemala erupted, killing a televisión reporter in the process.  The only surprise for me was that just one person died.  When Cath and I hiked up the slopes a couple of years earlier, we were two of at least a hundred tourists who seized the opportunity to encounter volcanic lava up close.

The hike begins in Aguacate- basically a few houses that exist in order to charge an admission fee for the volcano.  Almost as soon as we got off the bus, a small child approached us with a walking stick. We resisted his offers, and the dozens of children who followed us making the same offer for the first 100 yards. 

For the first hour or so, we walked through lush, green farmland that gave no hint of the danger lying ahead.  The first thing that alerting you to the nearby volcano is the smell.  The sulphurous fumes hit you hard as you ascend, and then the danger begins.

As the grass gives way to black gravel, you start to realize why one of those walking sticks from the annoying children might have been a good idea.  A seemingly harmless little stumble revealed that dried-up lava is startlingly similar to glass.  I looked down at my hands to find they were covered with tiny little scratches.  This episode would be repeated more than once. 

I bravely trooped on, however, and pretty soon, we found what we came to see.  In the distance, we saw little bits of bright orange glowing against the black background.  Our appetite was whetted, and we walked upwards with renewed vigour (which led to more scratches).  Pretty soon, we reached the lava.  Stretching out in front of us were dozens of orange, volcanic streams, bubbling and boiling, fresh from the crater of Pacaya. 

Approaching the flow of molten rock felt a little surreal.  As the ground under my feet got noticeably hotter, I thought ´Should I really be getting this close to something so destructive, so potentially devastating?´ After  a moment’s pause I decided, ´Screw it, it’ll make a good picture,´ and continued.

'Do you smell something burning?´ 'No, honey, just keep on smiling.'

Now, some of you will be thinking, ´The supervision on an excursion like this must be extremely tight, they can’t just allow tourists to go tramping about in volcanic emission.’  Clearly you have never travelled in the developing world.  If Guatemala has any health and safety regulations, they were being flagrantly flaunted here.  I don’t even remember seeing my guide for most of the walk. Had someone decided that sticking their hair in lava would have been a great story for the folks back home- and let´s face it, we´re talking about people who would pay money to witness something that sends most sane humans fleeing in terror- there would have been no wise leader to say ‘Mick (because this daredevil would no doubt have been Australian), maybe that’s not such a good idea.’





 After we had a chance to frolic around the deadly discharge, there was a vague proposition that we head down soon.  The suggestion turned out to be a good one, as darkness soon began to fall. Apparently the prospect of cutting yourself on volcanic flint and reducing yourself to burning embers was not enough of a risk, so the organisers added ´walking down a volcano in pitch dark´ to the growing list of hazards.  They did provide head torches, to be fair, and the night provided a chance to witness a few orange explosions from the top of the volcano. 

You can understand my amazement, and relief, when I found out Pacaya had erupted- this time sending ash and lava as far as 25 miles away- that the death toll hadn’t been greater.  Amazingly, within two weeks, Pacaya had visitors again, an estimated 2,000 in one weekend.  It seems hard to believe, but then again, being up close and personal with actual lava is an opportunity that doesn’t come along every day and, to be honest, if I had the chance I would definitely do it again.