And the Eruption Bids Adieu

Well, it seems the geological event that we all love to hate - the Eyjafjallajökull eruption - has reached an at least informal conclusion. There is no ash plume, and no seismic activity. Roads into the area are still closed at the time of this writing, and air traffic is slowly returning to normal, but we've had nothing but blue skies for the past three days now, and my allergies have dialled down from "Incapacitated" to merely "Unable to Breathe".

Sure was a fun ride, though, wasn't it? We started with the "tourist volcano" of Fimmvörðuháls, whose photogenic lava plumes brought with it the promise of wheelbarrows full of cash from foreigners anxious to get close enough to the eruption to roast marshmallows by it.

But then the planet had to go ahead and troll us, ripping open the decidedly uninviting ash eruption at Eyjafjallajökull. That sure made life incredibly unpleasant for farmers in the south of Iceland, who were forced to either bring their livestock indoors or evacuate altogether, and who at the time of this writing are still shovelling themselves out from under a thick layer of ash.

Of course, their struggle was pretty much overwhelmed by the thousands upon thousands of air travellers who were grounded across Europe by our meandering plume, wafting over the continent like the laughing ghost of Icesave.

Ah, memories. Who can forget the "I Hate Iceland" guy? Or the "I Hate Iceland" guy dance remix? Or the "I Hate Iceland" guy Team Fortress 2 remix? Or the "I Hate Iceland" guy drum 'n' bass remix?

I get teary just watching those videos.

Well anyway, it seems it won't be long until everything's back to normal, air flight-wise, even if we're still getting people asking us when the mondo-devastation eruption is due. The answer: whenever we feel like it. All we gotta do is flip the switch on the side of the mountain. It's true. Look it up if you don't believe me.

The Eruption Giveth, The Eruption Taketh Away

It's hard to believe that barely two months ago a volcanic eruption in Fimmvörðuháls, in south Iceland, seemed like a goose dropping fat golden eggs. That's because the initial eruption was the pretty, Hollywood kind: lots of lava plumes, set against a stark, Nordic background, and relatively safe enough to walk right up to the thing and take photos and videos of it.

It's that last point, in fact, that gave many people here hope. And for good reason: in early April, some 200 tourists a day were heading up to the volcano. March was, in fact, a record-breaking month for tourism in Iceland. We were optimistic that this eruption could be a great boost to our economy.

And that's when Mother Earth decided to troll us.

When the photogenic Fimmvörðuháls was replaced by the decidedly unattractive ash eruption at Eyjafjallajökull, things took a turn for the worse. Apart from making life extremely difficult for people who live in the region, this ash cloud shut down plane traffic across Europe, resulting in multiple flight and hotel cancellations here at home. Matters weren't helped when the president told BBC that the real doom-and-gloom eruption was on its way. He would later add that this isn't likely to happen for decades, but by then, the damage had been done.

And that's basically where we're at now. Summer is almost here, and flights in and out of Iceland can be cancelled at the drop of a hat. Hardworking and dedicated volunteers are in the south, helping to clean up the farms that have had to put up with the heaviest ashfall, and that's heartwarming, certainly. But we're stuck with this ash machine that doesn't seem to be nearing a conclusion anytime soon.

I guess the lesson in all this is: don't expect unpredictable geological phenomenae to rescue your economy. I've also learned that volcanic ash mist apparently kicks my spring allergies into overdrive. Christ I hate this volcano.