Explore Iceland's fiery volcanoes for a taste of imminent danger

We are standing 120 metres up in the air on a thin, rickety metal and wooden platform. It is only around 5 degrees Celsius, and is becoming damper as we descend. A shiver surges down my spine as we scrape against some rocks, marginally altering our trajectory. However, our lift operator uses his hand to push us off the wall, keeping us steadily on course – down into the once-fiery abyss.

A party of five of us are on an extraordinary six-hour outing in Bláfjöll (Blue Mountains Country Park) in Iceland, being lowered into the throat of Thrihnukagigur – which translates as Three Peaks Crater – volcano. Doing this is not as insane as one might imagine, as the volcano’s been dormant for over four millennia – and according to the experts, there is no likelihood of it erupting in the near future. This Nordic nation offers plenty of scope for adventure, due to its location and natural topography. Indeed, situated in the tumultuous waters between the Arctic and North Atlantic Ocean, the island is known as the “Land of Fire and Ice” – a well-deserved sobriquet, as it is dotted with 125-plus active or dormant volcanoes, and 11 per cent of its territory is covered by glaciers.

“Our company initiated these tours in 2012, because it’s the only spot in the world where sightseers are able to be inside such a structure,” says our guide, Óda. “In most cases, the top of the crater collapses in on itself, or the magma in the pipe hardens and develops into a plug. Here, the lava simply disappeared. It’s thought that in some manner it solidified in the walls, or drained away back into the earth.”

We start off with a 50-minute hike to base camp, along a gravel path and through astounding wilderness. The first time one glimpses Thrihnukagigur, a browny-grey cinder cone looming in puffy clouds, it’s easy to believe such a magical setting is where good triumphed over evil in the Lord of the Rings saga.

By the side of this 120-metre-high titan, in a small cabin, there is a brief safety instruction and everybody’s fitted out with helmets and harnesses, making us look as if we could be going searching for fatbergs in London’s sewers.

It’s a relatively juddering six-minute descent in a makeshift lift – comparable to the mechanical platforms utilised to clean skyscraper windows – which finally takes us inside the belly of the beast. At ground level, floodlights bring this subterranean vista alive in stunning fashion. I’m surrounded by a haphazard assemblage of stones, rocks and boulders, which creates the impression that somebody’s been playfully careless with numerous sticks of dynamite. Yet the geological forces at work in this enormous magma chamber – it could easily envelop the whole of Big Ben – would have been hundreds of times more potent than any wanton human endeavour. And it’s intriguing to peek up at the volcano’s narrow vent and contemplate the phenomenal concentration of energy necessary to thrust lava out of it.

We get 40 minutes to explore, and are basically free to wander around anywhere. Really remarkable is the panoply of colour: as they are composed of basalt, such mountains usually present black interiors; but here, due to oxidation, it seems as if a pandemonium of parrots has collided with the walls and been instantaneously fossilised: ambers, indigos, russets and purples are this behemoth’s elaborate plumage. A panorama of such surreal beauty, combined with the serene tranquillity, makes being in this place seem like an almost religious experience.