Volcanos

Their triangular tyranny would drive me to the edge

This week I have been thinking about …

VOLCANOS

Unusually for me, I ventured out of the country for a few days for a change of climate.

I visited an island that’s edged by a series of dramatic volcanoes but thankfully none of them were switched on at the time.

I saw some interesting things, small dark lizards and geckoes, a barracuda (a near miss while paddling) and lots of pasty Scottish people that had gone the colour of well-cooked lobsters (including me).

How’s my tan?

A change of environment can give you a bit of headspace to think about things.

I wondered what it would be like to live a simple life on a volcanic island.

I could grown vines in my own lava-field back garden.

I could make things to flog to the tourists - polished stones (black, obviously) or driftwood key-rings in the shape of lizards or (easier to make), a volcano.

I could soak up the local legends;

The Devil of Timanfaya - inspired by the tragic tale of a wedding day gone wrong when an uninvited arrival dropped on the bride and squashed her, causing the groom to morph, hulk-like, into a long tailed tourist attraction.

The story of San Brandon - a ghostly island that appears to sailors from behind banks of fog when least expected.

Interestingly, this legend is credited to a 6th century Irish monk called Saint Brendan who was well known for making up stories about the things he’d seen while searching for answers with the aid of the strong stuff.

There are many others but I just don’t know if I could settle there.

Come on in, the lava’s just right

It’s the volcanoes.

Would they just blend into the background?

I don’t think so.

Over time, would you forget they were even there building up a casual immunity to their danger?

Would you find yourself on a carefree amble, skipping around a smouldering crater’s edge on a moonlit night, wondering where that smell was coming from and why your trainers were melting?

I think the shadowy shapes of the fire mountains would grow in my mind.

Eventually that’s all I’d be able to think about.

Their triangular tyranny would drive me to the edge.

I’d become a Gollum like figure wandering amongst the alien landscape, muttering to myself about jewellery I’d lost and eventually taking a dive into the smouldering crater of Mount Doom itself!

It’s no use.

I belong in Scotland.

Yes, there are hills and mountains here too, but they don’t explode and you’d need to drink an awful lot to start seeing monsters in the Lochs.

Behind you!

I live on the edge of Edinburgh, just at the foot of a regional park which has a number of hills that tend to be more rounded than pointy (technical terms!).

I already knew that there were some very old volcanic activity in the area. Edinburgh Castle is build on a large lump of rock called Castle Rock and that used to form part of a volcano (the top presumably) but as I looked further into the local volcano scene I discovered some rather peculiar ‘facts’.

• the area that is now Edinburgh and the Pentland Hills was covered by a shallow tropical sea called Lapetus

• Lapetus separated two continents, Laurentia and Avalonia

• Laurentia contained Scotland

• Avalonia contained England

• The continents collided creating ranges of hills and mountains

• Volcanic eruptions formed the rock of the Pentland Hills

I live on that rock.

I’ve been living on a volcano all along!

Volcano Man: I can only dream of creating something this good …

Until next time, have a great weekend, E