Eldfell's cinder slope

Eldfell appeared in January 1973 and buried a third of the town in ash before the eruption stopped. Fifty years on it is a red-brown cinder cone you can walk up in about half an hour on a marked path, and the summit gives the whole story in one frame: the lava field, the rebuilt houses at its edge, the harbour beyond and the sea past that.

The colour is the gift — rust-red scoria underfoot against green slopes and a blue-grey sea, unlike anything on the mainland. Portraits on the upper slope put people against pure red ground; from the rim, the wide frames need a person for scale as always. Some vents on the cone are still warm to the touch decades later, a detail worth mentioning to clients before they sit down.

The path is loose cinder and steepens toward the top; shoes matter, and a long dress needs carrying up. Wind is stronger on the cone than in town, and there is no shelter. Go up in the evening, when the light is low and the whole island is warm-toned, and allow an hour for the round trip plus shooting.