It’s 4pm, and I’m covered in ash. So much ash that my skin resembles monochrome fairy bread – there’s not much space between particles. I slathered on suncream before the march north to Mount Yasur, not taking into account that it would act like a magnet for the cinders that this very active volcano is spewing. But it’s all part of the drama, and I feel like the temporary freckles are kind of a badge of honour.
We’re near Sulphur Bay on the east coast of Tanna, one of 83 islands that comprise the Vanuatu archipelago. And things couldn’t get wilder if we soaked our clothes in ecstasy and set off fireworks. Not that we need to – we have
