Nicaragua Letter / Deaglán de Bréadún: The Masaya volcano is about 30 minutes outside the Nicaraguan capital, Managua. A sign in Spanish and English at the edge of the crater is addressed to the "Estimado Visitante/ Dear Visitor".
The English translation may be flawed but it possesses a certain charm.
"This is an active volcano," it reads. "That can presents phenomenas without advisement, such as emissions of smokes, expulsions of rock, sand and others."
There follows a set of guidelines: "(1) Keep away from the area; (2) In case of expulsions protect yourself under the car; (3) Parking your car - facing exit; (4) Stay 20 minutes only in the crater area; (5) Follow the regulations of the park rangers."
It was a bit late to be told to keep away from the area. Anyway, who could resist the chance to see a moderately active volcano, without too much risk of "phenomenas without advisement"?
Nevertheless, I checked the space under the car - not a lot of room there if anything went wrong. An actual eruption would have been more than I bargained for, of course. I had never seen a volcano before and, short of spewing out an endless stream of molten lava, this one certainly lived up to expectations.
A constant spiral of misty, sulphurous smoke emerged from a dark pit in the centre. This was an unrelenting, nasty vapour - like the bad breath of an angry giant. Lean over as much as you like, the pit still seemed bottomless. You really felt as if you were peering into the bowels of the earth or, as a visiting Spanish friar once put it: "the gates of hell".
Around the pit, the volcanic hollow was a lunar landscape. A strong breeze took the sting out of the sulphurous smoke and dissipated its worst effects. Gingerly, I peered over the lip of the volcano and into the void. Volcanic activity had created layer upon layer of exposed rock - a geologist's dream.
There are 20 volcanoes in Nicaragua and 13 of them remain active. There are several extinct volcanoes at Masaya, but the active one which draws the tourists is the Santiago crater.
It is said to be one of only four volcanoes on Earth that maintains a constant pool of lava. There was a minor eruption five years ago when hundreds of flaming rocks landed in the parking area and enough lava was expelled to set a nearby hillside on fire.
This unquiet volcano could be a metaphor for the state of Nicaragua itself. When we returned to the main road, a pick-up truck passed with a black and red flag, an emblem of the Sandinistas who overthrew the Somoza dictatorship in 1979.
It was the last socialist revolution to catch the world's imagination and young pilgrims arrived from many countries, including Ireland, to pay homage.
The late Ronald Reagan was not a fan, however, and the US gave sustained and highly controversial support to the Contras, the anti-Sandinista rebels who sought to overturn the new order. The Sandinistas were not exactly the Simon-pure revolutionaries of legend, although they made serious efforts to remedy the country's glaring inequalities.
Unlike other radical regimes of right and left, the Sandinistas surrendered power when they lost an election in 1990.
They remain active but have traded the Kalashnikov for the ballot-box. Their leader, Daniel Ortega, is a candidate in the presidential election later this year but a recent opinion poll has him trailing badly.
The town of Masaya, near the volcano, is a relaxed sort of place. It is famous for the manufacture of hammocks, which sway in the breeze as you drive past. The average cost of a hammock is 400 cordobas, the local currency, or about €19. Rocking chairs and rum are other specialities of this laid-back land.
Nicaragua is 60 per cent Catholic but there is a growing evangelical movement, which is being encouraged by evangelists in the US. On the plane as I flew into Managua, there were no less than five US missionary groups, coming to spread the word.
Nicaraguan Catholicism is not as puritanical as its Irish counterpart. So-called "love hotels" are popular with the citizenry. Amorous couples rent rooms for three hours at a time. One such place we passed was called the Hotel No-Comment. Whether or not this was a resort for spin-doctors was not immediately clear.
Nicaragua is rich in wildlife, with so many species that apparently only a small proportion have been identified and catalogued. You will even see traders holding out sticks with parrots and parakeets perched on them, hoping to lure the passing motorist.
The most intriguing name for any of these creatures is the Kamikaze Parrot, but I have been unable to find out if it really exists or was dreamt up by a Monty Python scriptwriter.
Despite its many attractions, there are surprisingly few tourists in Nicaragua. Perhaps the image of instability from the revolution and subsequent civil war is keeping them away. Or maybe it's just the crazy drivers on the roads. No doubt they will come back in time, lured by the sunshine, mountains, friendly people and grumbling volcanoes.