On Eyjafjallajokull

Image taken 17th April 2010 at Putney Bridge

And so it continues. The invisible cloud of ash from Icelandic volcano Eyjafjallajokull is still hovering menancingly over the British Isles and most of northern Europe. Along with the upcoming general election, this is what more or less dominates UK news at the moment.

A colleague received an email from a supplier in the far east on Friday, urging her to 'pay extra attention when driving through the ash.' Of course we explained that it wasn't quite Dante's Peak in King's Cross, but I can see why she'd think it was, the amount we've gone on about it [myself included]. Perhaps this is due to our lack of volcanoes and fault lines, coupled with the obvious fact that there's only so often that drizzle can be newsworthy, that we've seized this opportunity to be dramatic. The vast majority of Eyjafjallajokull's column inches are dedicated to the thousands of stranded travellers dotted across the globe - something that for them is obviously incredibly inconvenient, and in some cases maybe even financially crippling - but the Ash Cloud of Doom has not stopped there.

Hundreds of people in Iceland were evacuated from their homes. Airlines may be forced to make people redundant should they be grounded much longer. The lack of air travel has meant flower exporters in Kenya are losing obscene amounts of money. This is what really got me. This is what I would never have considered; the fact that a volcano way up in northern Europe can effect the business dealings of someone in Kenya is...well...it's a bit mental.

It's crazy how the world exists day-to-day on such tight deadlines - how a few days without aeroplanes can have such a huge ripple effect. Another example: According to this ever so interesting article, in 1783 another Icelandic volcano erupted. The clouds of ash and dust were so thick that crops failed throughout northern Europe. This poor harvest was one of the catalysts of the French revolution! Crazy shit. That volcano changed the world. All of this is so weird if you think about it. All of it. The whole business has made the world seem so much smaller to me. I know that if I wanted to go on holiday tomorrow it would take me a bloody long time, but it's the exposure of the delicate supply chains and the speed at which things unravel as soon as one link is broken that makes everything seem less far away. It's like dominoes on a global scale. I'm probably making no sense; if anything I should feel more isolated, but I don't think I've ever felt more connected to the rest of the world.