We chose to go to Florida actually.  She wanted a foreign holiday for her birthday, and I, in my dislike of foreign travel, refused to go anywhere hot, dusty, developing, lacking in infrastructure, democracy, sanitation, health and safety, English language...  I hate foreign travel.  I hate being unable to communicate, and I hate any food that is not plain, which usually means I spend the holiday ill, or hungry, or both.  She wanted to go to any number of hot, dusty, under-serviced places, but luckily, she agreed to my suggestion of the USA.  For once, I would have a foreign holiday where there would be plenty of people speaking English, where I could find simple food, where there would be good infrastructure, and democracy.  It is pure coincidence that it also has the Kennedy Space Center (sic).

So we were going for her birthday, but she was interested in travelling earlier, as there would be a shuttle launch on 12^th February.  I refused, partly because we had no guarantee that her new passport would arrive in time, and partly because I had no intention of arranging a holiday around the unreliable timing of a shuttle launch.  Of course, it would be nice to see such a thing, but booking the holiday for that time would be no guarantee, and if we built the holiday around seeing a launch which was then cancelled, it would spoil the entire holiday.  We were going for her birthday, so we stuck to that plan.  Florida has plenty to keep one occupied without seeing a launch.

The launch of Discovery on 12^th February was postponed, so I felt pleased that we had not booked for that week, and a little (but only a little) hopeful when it was rescheduled for the week we would be in Florida.  As it turns out, it was postponed again, so we still did not get to see the launch, but as I had specifically planned against seeing it, and against being disappointed by not seeing it, we were still able to enjoy the holiday without any feeling of having lost out, and we still had plenty to occupy us.

Universal studios was not only excellent, it far surpassed expectations (which were high to begin with).  Disney's Magic Kingdom is absolute pants!  They trade on reputation and do little to improve or update anything, it feels grubby and the attractions are third-rate.  As for the parade, hearing the same inane chorus repeated continuously for twenty minutes whilst watching people in costume wave and dance, is not my idea of entertainment.  Still, I don't have children, and was there because she wanted to go, and she got in free for her birthday.  Your kids might like it, but at the end of the day, there was a long line of bedraggled blokes sitting on the kerb on Main Street looking absolutely sick, and they were all clearly thinking the same thing: I can't believe I bought the two day tickets.

Honestly, Disney sucks on every level, and in ways you cannot possibly imagine, but I didn't mind, because not only would I be going to the Kennedy Space Center (KSC), my fiancé had bought me (and herself) the Astronaut Training Experience day as a birthday present (my birthday having been a couple of weeks earlier).  The KSC has plenty to occupy visitors.  The astronaut training experience was not at the main visitor centre, but at the astronaut hall of fame six miles away, which itself has enough things of interest between a museum and activities, to keep one there for half a day, and that is without the astronaut training experience.  The main visitor centre has enough to keep one occupied for two days.  There is a bus tour included in the basic admission, which takes you to the Saturn V centre (where there is a full size, genuine Saturn V rocket), the Launch Complex Observation Gantry, and the International Space Station Centre, so your basic admission takes you through four locations (main visitor complex, Saturn V centre, Launch Complex Observation Gantry, International Space Station Centre) on a bus tour that will last around two and a half hours, with plenty to do at each location.  In addition to this, the cost of admission will also entitle you to entry into the Astronaut Hall of Fame, and is valid for a second day within 7 days for re-entry into any and all of the aforementioned attractions.

Five locations over two days then, and by far the cheapest admission price of any main tourist attraction in Florida.

There are also two additional bus tours which one can take for an increased price (yet is still much cheaper than any other main Floridian tourist attraction), which we did.  Therefore, with our two bus tours of KSC (we did not do the third tour), the Astronaut Hall of Fame and the Astronaut Training Experience, we were at KSC for three days in a row, never got bored, and still did not see everything.  The Shuttle Launch Experience (not to be confused with the Astronaut Training Experience) is an excellent simulator, the rocket garden is inspirational, the Saturn V Centre is fantastic, the Hall of Fame is excellent, the ISS Centre is interesting (where you can see actual ISS modules being prepared) and you can meet a real astronaut at the Astronaut Encounter at KSC.  You can also meet an astronaut at the Astronaut Training Experience, so I met two Astronauts in three days.  I could not possibly impress upon you how good the various areas and aspects of KSC are, and certainly not without filling an entire SpaceSIGNL, so I will not try.  If you get the chance, go.  There are things you would not even expect, such as the bald eagles and their nests on the bus tours, and the alligators which would make me more than a little nervous if I worked there, given their proximity to offices and parking.  What I do intend to cover briefly, is the Astronaut Training Experience.

On arrival, you receive a name tag/security pass, and a t-shirt, both of which you must wear.  There are snacks and coffee, and a quick overview of the day ahead (it's supposed to last a half day, but actually lasts a bit longer than that, as there is an overlap between the morning and afternoon groups, when everyone meets the astronaut for a talk).  The group is then split into two teams, who will not be competing with each other.  It's just for organisation, so that one team can be doing one set of activities whilst the other team does a different set of activities, before swapping around.

The activities comprise mostly of:

·         Using computer simulators in a small classroom to learn how to fly and land the shuttle, perform payload operations, etc

·         Performing a simulated mission, once trained on the simulators, with everyone taking different roles from Flight Director to Commander.  This simulated mission occurs in a replica of the Orbiter (shuttle) cockpit for the Commander, Pilot and Mission Specialists, and a mock-up control room, for those participants taking on the ground-based roles

·         Training on a Microgravity wall, a Moon Gravity simulator, and a motorized Multi-Axis Trainer

After the experience day, it is also possible to use a Centrifuge to experience up to 4Gs.

The Microgravity wall and Moon Gravity simulators were great fun, a strange experience, but very painful.  Whilst the rest of the body experiences the simulation of less gravity, the parts under which the harness supports, experience the full effects of gravity concentrated in isolated areas, with great chafing and squishing effects.  The Multi-Axis Trainer on the other hand, is simply awful.  I am not a fan of roller-coasters.  I don't like being thrown and whipped around, and subjected to excessive speeds and forces that I cannot control.  I expected the Multi-Axis Trainer to be of the design in which one tumbles placidly, powered by gravity and body movement, resulting in gentle spinning.  It was motorized, and randomly spun around in every direction, with often wicked, sudden direction changes, and it felt hideous.  I would rather have been in a washing machine during a spin-cycle, because at least that only works on one axis, and does not suddenly change direction.  I was not there to refrain from the experience though, so I went on it, and I would do so again, regardless of how unpleasant it was.  Whilst spinning around, and swallowing stomach acid (do not believe anyone that tells you that because your stomach stays in the same central location it won't make you vomit), with your face close to bursting with blood and G-Force, the person controlling it asks you various questions on various subjects, presumably to check that you are still conscious, and if so, still cognitive.

The assignation of mission roles is largely random (names in a hat) but by preference.  So one volunteers for a role, then if lucky, their name is selected from the hat.  The only role I did not want was the Public Relations Officer.  I was most interested in being a Mission Specialist, but I volunteered for the role of Commander, and was lucky to get it, as some things went wrong during the payload operations part of the mission.  For those that do not know, the Commander pilots the shuttle, whilst the Pilot co-pilots the shuttle.  We were told that this is largely because nobody goes through the years of training, learning and selection to be called 'co' anything, so rather than Pilot and Co-Pilot, it is Commander and Pilot.  My flying (and more importantly, landing) in the computer simulator had been very good, so I was pleased enough to be selected as Commander.

There were some people on the Training Experience taking it all very seriously.  On my team, there was a pilot, and flight simulator enthusiast (both of whom, I hasten to add, refused to go on the Multi-Axis Trainer), and on the other team, there was a female US naval officer, studying engineering, who has serious aspirations of becoming an astronaut, and was given, in return, serious advice on how to apply for, and join the program.

Anyway, the front-end of the Orbiter was replicated inside and out, with entry via a small hatch (just like the real thing) onto the mid-deck, and entry to the flight-deck (cockpit) via the ceiling of the mid-deck.  Various computer screens simulated what one saw 'outside' the orbiter, whilst other screens were exact replicas of those inside the real space shuttle.  There were more switches on the ceiling and consoles than one could imagine.  Communication with the control room was via headsets, and those in the control room were able to see everything in the flight-deck via camera and monitors, whilst those in the orbiter were unable to see the control room (all very realistic, then).

Everyone was following a script, though the copies of the scripts were partial (otherwise they would have been huge) so each role had a different script dictating what to say, and (more importantly) what to do.  I must say, because everyone else was American, the accents coming over from the control room lent the mission a wonderful air of authenticity.  Anyway, one had to watch the script for one's cues, and to ensure that all necessary switches were flicked, and that all necessary codes and directives were input into the computers (which were many, and complex).  Occasionally, alarms would sound, indicating problems, which were followed by frantically looking around various switch panels and keypads to the left, right, and overhead, to figure out how to prevent whatever catastrophe was about to be simulated.  Obviously, none of this was easy, and thanks to everyone cocking things up to some degree or other, either in operations, or dialogue, the atmosphere was very relaxed and humorous.  Overall, the simulated mission was great fun, though I'm not sure how much fun those that were taking the day seriously wanted.

After the mission was complete, there was also a 'graduation' where we were presented with certificates, an autograph, photographs, etc, and a KSC pen, 'just like the ones real astronauts use here on earth'.  Everyone had been talking about how good my landing had been in the simulated mission, though I was disappointed that it had not been as good as those I had managed on the training simulators.  The control stick was rather different in the orbiter, so responded slightly differently, and this (I felt) adversely affected my landing.  Still, everyone else had seemingly been impressed by it, so it was gratifying when my name was called to receive my certificate as mission commander, that it was accompanied by the statement, 'with a perfect landing', in front of a real former shuttle commander (though I'm sure it would not have impressed him, it did please me).  I was even more pleased when the landing by the other team's commander was only described as a conciliatory (at least that's what I tell myself) 'very good'.

After the graduation, former astronaut Jon McBride, gave a talk and answered questions, before posing for photographs.  Like many people reading this, I have seen many documentaries about space travel, in which astronauts are interviewed, or edited as talking heads, and I have to say, I have never been so impressed by anything I have seen on TV as I was by listening to an astronaut speak in person.  On TV you get edited responses, and sound bites to fit the director's idea of what he wants to convey about the questions he wanted to ask.  In person, there is something far more emotional about their accounts (I've met two of them now, so obviously, I'm an expert).  They speak with enthusiasm about their subjects, but it is their responses to questions that stand out, as they take a moment, with a distant gaze and wistful smile, not just to recall, but to relive an experience, before providing an answer of such honesty, and conveyance that you are actually left feeling like you understand.  The seemingly asinine question of, 'what is it like to go into space', resulted in a long and fascinating, inspiring answer that one would never hear on a documentary.

On the future, McBride was pleased that NASA would be going back to the moon, but expressed dismay at the length of time it would take.  In 1962 JFK famously declared

'We choose to go to the moon... we choose to go to the moon in this decade, and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard.'

At that time, America had extremely limited experience in manned space travel, having only achieved a single, short, sub-orbital flight, less and later than the Russians, and as JFK stated in the same speech

'To be sure, we are behind, and will be behind for some time in manned flight. But we do not intend to stay behind, and in this decade, we shall make up and move ahead.'

Despite the lack of experience, America decided, whilst knowing very little, that they would land a man on the moon by the end of the decade, yet America's current plans, announced  in 2004 gave them until 2020, the end of the next decade, and seventeen years inclusively.  How could it take twice as long now, as it did in the sixties, when we now have so much more technology and knowledge?  There is precedent for moon landings.  Does it take twice as long to read the old plans as it did to write them?  We could turn back the clock of technological development by four decades, learn nothing, improve nothing,  rebuild everything as it was back then, and be ready to go in months!  This was the source of Jon McBride's dismay, and it's astonishing, given those early, pioneering days of American heroes, of aspiration, of inspiration, and of advancement, that the progress of space exploration has been so slow since.  It seems like more was accomplished in that decade than in every decade thereafter combined, and we still have not travelled that far into space since.

The subject of Challenger or Columbia brings with it an air of evasion and sadness.  Clearly, having lost colleagues, perhaps friends, and affecting the entire shuttle program, such a subject is difficult for them, and they respond vaguely, seemingly not wanting to relive those experiences, but this melancholy extends beyond just disasters.  Whether tour guides, shop staff or astronauts, everyone seems saddened by the imminent demise of the shuttle program.  Despite it's failings, the space shuttle is an icon of space exploration, immediately identifiable, and standing apart from other space vehicles in design and appearance.  Astronauts regard it as the 'Rolls Royce' of space flight, imposing only 3Gs on takeoff (which, having now experienced 4 Gs, I can tell you is nothing), and with unmatched space for personnel, the shuttle is by far the most comfortable ride in to space, and for returning therefrom.  The sadness goes beyond the mere loss of an icon, however.  Like the demise of Concorde, there is a feeling that the program is taking a step backwards, rather than forwards, where the technology of the past will have been better than that of the future, and worse still, according to Jon McBride, there will no longer be a need for pilots.  Future space flight will be controlled by computer, and from the ground.

From the early days of space exploration, up to the present, there has been a pioneering class of skilled, intelligent, and courageous American heroes.  For a few brief generations, test pilots and the cream of the navy and air force have been selected to fly space missions, and with the death of the shuttle program, these skills will no longer be needed.  In the future, all astronauts will be mission specialists, as there will no longer be the need, or room, for pilots.  Several generations of pioneers and heroes will have been rendered redundant.  These men carried our dreams, they provoked our inspiration, our admiration, did the things we could not do, led an implicit promise that would not be kept, and feel the same regret as us for that betrayal.  It feels like another step back, like losing the shuttle, like taking twice as long to return to the moon as it took to go originally, like spending four decades going nowhere.  So I stare out at launch pad 39a where stands the repeatedly delayed and soon to be decommissioned Discovery, and I turn my gaze to launch pad 39b standing empty.  I suppose at least it means in future the visitors to Kennedy Space Center will be able to see and board a genuine space shuttle, rather than a replica.

'A sad reminder of a time when two powerful nations challenged each other and then boldly raced into outer space... when our eyes looked towards the heavens, and with outstretched fingers, we touched the face of God.' - Sorkin.

Written by Dave Scott ©

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