We need not have bewildered over the schedules of the ferries that service Stromboli, for as we soon found out, Mother Nature decides when and if you will get there. The ferries do not adhere to the posted schedules, they simply seem to go when and if they are able. Despite the rough seas and the skepticism of one of the English speaking locals that we met at our transfer point, our hydrofoil successfully bumped it’s way along to Stromboli.One of a smattering of small islands above the toe of the big boot Stromboli is home to an active volcano. We were first enticed by the idea of hiking up to the crater and camping overnight – an experience that we had read about in the Lonely Planet. As of 2004 when Stromboli let out a great big spew of lava, the government has decided to add volcanos onto it’s list of dangerous things, right underneath irons and toilets. This came in the form of tighter regulations regarding excursions to the crater such as limiting the number of visitors and duration of visits to the crater. This meant that not only would we be without an iron in Stromboli, but also we would not be camping out in the warmth of the lava flow. We did sign up for an excursion to the peak but there were not enough people signed up and the excursion was cancelled.
We decided to hike to the highest point that is permitted without a guide. Prior to our journey, Adam researched the injuries and deaths that have been attributed to Stromboli and reassured me that most of the injuries happen when people are running away from the explosions and falling debris (except for the guy that flung himself into the crater in a dramatic and successful suicide attempt- honest!)… I felt so much better knowing that my course of action should anything happen, would be to stand perfectly still and admire the wave of lava and hot rocks showering down around me. We hiked up to the observation level (about the equivalent of the Grouse Grind for you 
Vancouverites- only more rollercoaster up and downs). Although we could hear the explosions every 20 minutes or so, we could only see burps of steam in the sunlight. Once the sun had set, the sound effects were accompanied by visuals- clouds of pinkish red – gorgeous and definitely at a comfortable distance. Not only did we have a great display from the volcano but the moon was bright and full too.
We made our way down the mountain and warmed up and filled up in a little pizzeria at the base prior to embarking on the rest of the journey home.
As you would expect, the beaches of Stromboli are made of fine, black volcanic sand. The ultra blackness of the sand contrasts so sharply with all the other colours around it that even on a cloudy day the brightly coloured fishing boats, white vacation homes, and deep turquoise of the Mediterranean seemed superimposed. The ultimate find… the remains of some bizarre berry plant, all in monochromatic, fisher-price orange!
We decided to hike to the highest point that is permitted without a guide. Prior to our journey, Adam researched the injuries and deaths that have been attributed to Stromboli and reassured me that most of the injuries happen when people are running away from the explosions and falling debris (except for the guy that flung himself into the crater in a dramatic and successful suicide attempt- honest!)… I felt so much better knowing that my course of action should anything happen, would be to stand perfectly still and admire the wave of lava and hot rocks showering down around me. We hiked up to the observation level (about the equivalent of the Grouse Grind for you 
Vancouverites- only more rollercoaster up and downs). Although we could hear the explosions every 20 minutes or so, we could only see burps of steam in the sunlight. Once the sun had set, the sound effects were accompanied by visuals- clouds of pinkish red – gorgeous and definitely at a comfortable distance. Not only did we have a great display from the volcano but the moon was bright and full too.We made our way down the mountain and warmed up and filled up in a little pizzeria at the base prior to embarking on the rest of the journey home.
As you would expect, the beaches of Stromboli are made of fine, black volcanic sand. The ultra blackness of the sand contrasts so sharply with all the other colours around it that even on a cloudy day the brightly coloured fishing boats, white vacation homes, and deep turquoise of the Mediterranean seemed superimposed. The ultimate find… the remains of some bizarre berry plant, all in monochromatic, fisher-price orange! 
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