Compton Verney explodes into life
Graham Young warms to the latest volcanic activity at Compton Verney.
For every person inconvenienced by the airspace lockdown, another would have been secretly enjoying every minute of the relative peace and quiet.
Not to mention the sheer spectacle of an unfolding disaster-movie drama featuring the single biggest international travel story since the sinking of Titanic almost 100 years ago.
In between these two extremes, most of us would have been excited to see Mother Nature exercising her divine right to dictate who goes where on her planet.
Humans have always been drawn to volcanoes, if only to draw them.
Whether they are erupting or not, television pictures can now instantly confirm they are invariably things of beauty in exotic locations.
At their wildest – think Krakatoa in 1883 – they are the stuff of legend.
Back in AD79, there were no rolling news bulletins to document what happened to Pompeii and Herculaneum.
Europe’s most active mainland volcano, Mount Vesuvius, simply blew its top and buried them in ash.
It wasn’t until 1860, when director of excavations Giuseppe Fiorelli began to uncover their secrets, that the layer-by-layer style of archaeology that we know today began to bring the long lost treasures back to life.
Vesuvius has erupted three times in the 20th century alone, but has been quiet since 1944.
Such is its enduring appeal that some three million people live close by, making it the world’s most densely populated volcanic area.
It was also the destination for my first school trip abroad.
In the days before cheap flights, we took a three-day journey by coach to explore the ruins and, best of all, to climb to the top.
As an excited 12-year-old I remember leaning over to peer down into the magnificent crater.
A nearby elderly Italian guide, sitting on a stool, was worried I would lose my footing.
