Just a quick post to let you know that I’ve gained a place on the International Space University summer programme this year, and will thus be spending nine weeks on the space coast in Florida learning everything from orbital mechanics to space policy. The summer programme counts as the first module for the ISU Space Studies MSc which would be based in Strasbourg. I’ve also gained a place on that, but whilst I’ll put space ahead of most things, my Granny is almost 90 and I’m not sure I want to leave her for the rest of the year.

Excitingly it’s not only the 25th anniversary of the university, but also the 50th anniversary of the Kennedy Space Centre at Cape Canaveral. We will be spending our time between the Florida Institute of Technology and KSC, so I think that there should be some nice  anniversary celebrations.

Getting to space university is not cheap, so it is with eternal gratefulness that I thank the UK Space Agency for the scholarship that they have offered me which will enable me to complete the summer programme. I must also extend heartfelt thanks to the European Space Agency for offering me a grant for the Masters course. I’d still need to find a few thousand Euro to enable me to take up my place on that, but it would be unthinkable without their generous support.

I’m super excited about meeting other people with a passion for space who will be coming from all around the world. I’m just itching to learn from their experiences and see what extra connections I can make at ISU. It’s going to be great!

Paolo Nespoli was the first astronaut I ever met, and as well being completely wide-eyed at the fact I was talking to an astronaut, I was also quickly won over by his easygoing style of communication. He didn’t make me feel silly for asking the same questions he must have answered at least one hundred times over. He gave honest, enthusiastic answers. I thought he was just great.

I’ve had the chance to meet him several times since then and he’s never failed to impress me.

He was a natural on Twitter, tweeting photos from space, engaging people, asking questions and being playful. He’s a natural in person too, speaking in a way that can’t fail to captivate you. He talks with a cheeky edge of humour, making space seem that bit more real and approachable, and with obvious passion for what he’s been doing in space. “I’m an engineer” he says, suggesting poets, musicians and writers may be better placed to explain the wonder of space. But I think he does a tremendous job. The incredible photos he’s taken, the way he brings space to life, the warmth of spirit and patience with all those people wanting photos, handshakes, autographs.

I’ve worked with all sorts of guests in my time in radio. Some sound bored, some nervous, others have been given a message from on high and dutifully read it out. It’s the ones that speak from the heart, that engage, that connect – those are the “gold dust” interviews. The ones that fill you with pride for getting the right person on air. The ones where you know your audience will be hanging in their cars just a moment longer so they don’t miss anything. Paolo Nespoli would be one of those gold-dust guests. I’d not hesitate to have him on air, and would encourage anyone who gets the chance, to go see him speak – especially if you’ve got kids. You will not be disappointed.

In the past few years we’ve celebrated 50 years since the first person, Russian cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin, made it to space, 50 years since the first American, Alan Shepherd followed suit and it’s even the 50th anniversary of the iconic space hub that is Kennedy Space Centre. But did you know that the UK is celebrating 50 years in space too?

If I’m honest, (and I like to think I am), I’d have to say that until this week I didn’t realise either, but now I’m uncovering the story I thought I’d share it with you.

50 years ago, the UK’s first satellite, rather charmingly named Ariel-1, after the sprite-like creature in Shakespeare’s The Tempest, was launched. This meant that the UK was only the third nation, after Russia and the US, to put something in orbit*.

That’s not the only reason the mission was special, it was also the first collaborative launch project. All but one of the experiments carried on Ariel-1 were from UK universities and NASA provided the launch vehicle.

The experiments were designed to study the ionosphere and its relationship with solar radiation. They included cosmic ray, solar emission and ionospheric experiments.

After a successful launch on 26th April 1962, Ariel-1 began sending data back to Earth. Ariel-1 was due to work for a year, but there is an unfortunate twist in the tale. In early July the satellite suffered radiation damage from a high-altitude nuclear test conducted by the US Airforce. Such was the power of the explosion, it temporarily created an additional radiation belt around the globe!

When news came in that Ariel-1 was“misbehaving” UK scientists tried to work out why. Even once the Americans came to the conclusion it was their experiment that had put Ariel-1 out of action they kept that knowledge to themselves. If fact it was only revealed when the US made a formal announcement, and they didn’t even talk to the UK about doing that!

Recently declassified government papers held in the National Archive confirm this, and are well worth look.
(For your convenience and listening pleasure I suggest that you listen to this special episode of the SpaceBoffins podcast since they have had highlights of the correspondence voiced up by actors).

There is some irony that it was the country we partnered with for our first satellite launch that was also responsible for its demise.

Ariel-1 struggled on, sporadically sending data back until finally being switched off in 1964. At the recent ‘UK in Space 50′ conference several of the original teams who worked on Ariel-1 and subsequent Ariel missions were present. They spoke about the importance of the data collected and how our involvement shaped the UK’s space science programme. Professor Peter Willmore, who actually worked on Ariel-1 concluded that “the encouragement it gave to instrument development was probably as important as the direct outcomes of the mission”.

* We’re only the sixth nation to put something in orbit using our own rocket. This occurred in 1971 when the satellite Prospero was successfully launched on the Black Arrow rocket, making it the first (and sadly last) UK satellite launched on a UK rocket.

Courtesy of NASA TV

I’m letting out a big sigh of relief. There’s a tear in my eye. I’m an emotional wreck!

Anton is home. Back on Earth. I watched his and his Soyuz crew undock from the international space station this morning, conduct their deorbit burn a couple of hours later, and just over half an hour ago, TMA22 touched down in Kazakhstan.

I blogged about the landing last night, it’s a very different thing to watch that when you know one of the people that’s headed back to Earth. It sounds like it was a textbook landing, with one of the Russian support crew members apparently commenting in broken English that “we nailed it”.

As the landing time drew nearer I became more conscious of my heartbeat, and experience a slight butterfly sensation. Then the first parachute opened and I started to feel a bit calmer. We were able to watch the Soyuz capsule via the live pictures on NASA TV.

I held my breath for those last few moments, and then they were down. They landed so precisely that it didn’t take long for the resuce crews to reach them. Anton Shkaplerov, Soyuz Commander, was first out of the capsule. They gently lifted him free of the vehicle and placed him in a special reclining chair with a Roscosmos blanket.

How did he look? Was he okay? I needed to know.

Image via NASA TV

And then there it was. That Anton smile, with a little cheeky edge to it. He was home, he was smiling, I was smiling with him. He thanked his crew for their cooperation and seemed pleased with the landing. I’m so proud. I probably have no right to be proud whatsoever, but its the overwhelming feeling right now.

Anton’s home safe. I’m breathing a sigh of relief, smiling and wiping away a small tear, all at the same time. Welcome home my friend.

Anton, Dan and Anatoli what a journey you’ve had. Take it easy, you deserve a rest.

I know a cosmonaut, and he’s currently in space.

I am even lucky enough to be on his “friends and family” list, which means that while he’s been in space, I’ve been able to email him, directly. Of course, the guidelines that came when I was informed I was on the list, were quick to point out that since my messages weren’t going to be screened I should be sure to think of his “psychological well-being”.

How’s about this for trivia, in space, astronauts have email addresses that only work while they’re on orbit! (And there was me all excited when I finally got a BBC email!)

Obviously, the guidelines, which also ask that I don’t forward any messages to a journalist (err..), mean I’m not going to say too much more about this, suffice to say that it was an incredible honour to be able to stay in touch with someone while they were living on the International Space Station. My 89-year old grandmother has been enjoying it too, since my cosmonaut friend, Anton Shkaplerov, sent her some greetings from space. “Oooooh!” she squeaked, “I can’t wait to boast to the WI about this!”.

My granny remembers Yuri Gagarin going up into space, and now she’s excited by another Russian in orbit. It’s truly wonderful.

Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is, that I know a cosmonaut, and he’s in space. Until tomorrow.

Tomorrow, Anton and his two crew-mates, will be undocking from the ISS, their home for the last six months, and heading back to Earth. They’ll travel back in their Soyuz capsule, landing in Kazakhstan at around 12.45pm UK time (if I’ve got my time-zone conversions right).

Soyuz undocking: image courtesy of NASA

Astronauts have been coming back to Earth in Soyuz capsules for years. I’ve heard plenty of them explain how it differs from a shuttle landing. Let’s just say it’s a bit less gentle. It’s safe, in as much as anything in spaceflight is “safe”. It’s been done lots of times before. They won’t let them land if they perceive a problem. I know all that. But this isn’t just a Soyuz capsule landing. This isn’t even a Soyuz capsule with people in it. This is a Soyuz capsule with *my friend* Anton. My friend is going to come hurtling back to Earth tomorrow. My friend.

I’m scared.

I can’t help it. I care about people. Suddenly, space becomes very real. It’s like the moment I watched Paolo Nespoli begin his long-duration space adventure atop of a Soyuz rocket. For all the coolness of a rocket launch, suddenly it was my friend, sitting on top of an awful lot of rocket fuel, with someone (figuratively) about to light the touchpaper. It changes things. It makes them real.

Sometimes space is untouchable, magical, slightly unreal – I’m sure I’ve used this metaphor before, but space is like father Christmas – you know it exists, but you’ll never meet/touch it.

When you know someone in space, it all becomes more real. Of course it’s still magical, so magical that I’m overwhelmed and humbled every time I receive a message from space (- from actual space!). How incredible to share that adventure first hand.

But now Anton’s coming home. Gran will be sad not to be able to say “I’m nearly 90 you know, and I’ve got a friend in space”, and I am feeling nervous. I know it will be alright, but this is my friend. My friend is coming home from space tomorrow, and I can’t help but feel a bit on edge. Please wish him a safe flight (and non-ballistic landing).

Anton, fly safe, gravity awaits you with open arms.

Sympathy and suggestions of the way-back machine came in. My heart leapt slightly as I realised my Google Reader subscription (a back-up suggestion from a friend) contained my text. Phew. I couldn’t bear to think of everything I’d worked so hard on being gone completely. Layout, photos, widgets and more importantly, comments, from valued readers and kind souls were all gone. This is especially gutting since one of those from the Head of NASA, Charlie Bolden. I’m going to piece it all back together, as best I can. Please bear with me.

In better news – I’ve got a place on the International Space University Summer Programme, so it’s not all bad news. More on that, well, as soon as I can get this fixed up again.

Please be patient as I try to fix this. I’m very sad that it happened.

Each has been different. The first, at NASA Ames, was huge! DJ’s in aircraft hangers, an air-show, talks from Steve Wozniak, Richard Garriott, and an LCROSS scientist.

The second was terrifying. Only because I was on the bill of performers, explaining the madness of the idea that might get me to space.
This evening, my third, was both awe-inspiring and emotional. Of course I knew about the film ‘First Orbit‘, premiered last year. Heck, I even know the guy that filmed most of it! (I say “guy”, what I really mean is ESA astronaut Paolo Nespoli.) Incidentally, just as Paolo went aboard his Soyuz ready for space he said “Let’s go!”, echoing the words of Yuri Gagarin just as spaceflight was born.

Tonight I joined other space fans at the British Interplanetary Societyfor Yuri’s Night and a screening of First Orbit, introduced by filmmaker Chris Riley. First Orbit aims to recreate the first human orbit round the world, filming the Earth beneath Yuri on that historic first flight. To do this, a combination of mathematics, orbital mechanics and the help of a friendly astronaut was required. Luckily Paolo was up for the challenge while he was in space, and despite apparently not cleaning the cupola window enough, I think he did a damn good job.

The film uses original audio recorded between Yuri and the ground stations during his flight, mixed with radio reports from Russia and the BBC. This is laid atop of footage of the Earth shot from the ISS.

It’s beautiful. Truly beautiful. While Chris mentioned we would be welcome to step out during the period that Yuri flew in darkness over the ocean, I sat transfixed, heartbeat raised and I realised just how much I want (need?) to see those sights for myself.

At the start of the evening I tweeted to let other people know I was celebrating Yuri’s Night with them, even watching the same film as people at ISU. But as the film got started, and I watched that beautiful sight I felt compelled to email Paolo, to congratulate him on his filming. Had he not agreed to do this, I might not be sitting here watching what he watched, what Yuri may have watched, to be sharing this moment with them.

I felt full of emotion. So proud to know people who’ve seen this with their own eyes. So desperate to see it with mine. I imagined my first orbit. Sharing that with others who dream like I do. About sharing the true emotion and wonder of it, not constrained by the scientific mindset or strict timetable of work to be done. I truly believe there needs to be more of this. In war people need to be dehumanised in order to cope with the horrors they encounter. This does not appeal to me at all. I would much rather be more human, more real and honest and share what those incredible first views out into space really feel like.

We know that astronauts train hard in order to concentrate, to keep their mind on the important work they do, but it’s the moments they let slip that they couldn’t help but stare out of the window, the moments they forgot what they were doing because of the beauty of it all, those are the moments that make me think we chose the right people to send. Every time I meet an astronaut I ask a question along those lines, and every time I hear how much they love what they do, I feel pleased. Genuinely pleased, and excited.

Tonight, I watched as the earth passed beneath us, I dreamed of being there, I imagined being there, I yearned to be there.

I emailed Paolo and congratulated him on his camera work and I tweeted that the only thing that changes about my dream of getting to space is the intensity at which I dream it (ever increasing, lest there be any doubt).

I even emailed Anton Shkaplerov in space, to wish him happy Yuri’s Night and tell him not to waste any spare second he might have to look out of the window. He’s been up there a while, I’m pretty sure he’s not wasting it, but there’s no harm in reminding anyone to open their eyes again, as if for the first time. Even with your feet planted firmly on the ground it’s always worth making a special effort to really see things afresh now and again.

I continued to watch First Orbit, realising how small we really are on this blue marble of ours. That nothing really matters, not when you stop and step back that far. Ideas sprang into my mind – remind me to follow through with those, they could be good – I also wondered about scheduling 30 minutes a day to watch space from the station. A wonderful reminder of where we really fit in the universe, and what a treasured orb it is that we live on.

Each Yuri’s Night has been different and special. I’ve just finished reading Starman, a book all about Yuri Gagarin and it was great hearing the bits of radio contact I’d read in the book. “Hi to the blond man” said Yuri when he heard Alexei Leonov’s voice from a ground station, that was his nickname for Leonov, it makes me smile. It’s real. It’s human.

For all the fantastic science that we do, for all the technological leaps that we make, we should never take for granted what an incredible human experience exploration really is, and what a huge risk Yuri took that day, 51 years ago, taking the human race that step further than ever before.

I raised my glass of vodka, with lime and sugar at the ready – with Anton’s voice saying “Russian tradition”, echoing in my mind, we toasted Yuri Gargarin, the shuttle, and the six cosmonauts and astronauts currently orbiting this planet of ours. Na zdorovje, wherever you are.

If you’d like to find out more about the making of First Orbit, listen to this brief interview I did with Chris Riley, the brains behind it, and be sure to check out First Orbit online and on Twitter. It really is spectacular.

In a fantastic trip for my SpaceNomad alter-ego, I was part of the lucky group invited by ESA and CNES (the French space agency) to join them for the #ATVTweetUp in Toulouse.

After sunset, a deliciously French meal and making the acquaintance of some new space tweeps – including one from Poland! – we were treated to the lovely surprise of ESA astronaut Paolo Nespoli joining the ESA contingent for a quick hello. Anyone who knows me will know that I beamed as he called out “SpaceKate!” and greeted me. Daniel, Erica and Maria all joined us too and we sat outdoors in the warm evening air being entertained by an array of magic tricks from Paolo.

On the day of the TweetUp itself we were warned that the bus wouldn’t wait for stragglers, so there was a bit of a panic chez Kate and Jane since the hotel cat refused point blank to come out from under the bed. Thankfully the owner was around to help us remove the feline and we set out on our way, quickly spotting green ATVTweetUp shirts sporting ESA and CNES logos.

I said a quick hello to as many people as I could and instantly forgot names, but somehow vaguely remembered nationalities. What a lovely mixed bunch we had, with spacetweeps from France, UK, Ireland, Spain, Poland, Germany, Netherlands and even Japan! Kayoko Yamamoto made not only her first trip to a space tweetup, but also her first trip to Europe! That’s what I love about space fans, we’re a worldwide bunch and not afraid to travel for the chance to live new space adventures! I really hope that we made her feel welcome.

We arrived a CNES, were handed our very fetching ATVTweetUp t-shirts and yet another treat lay in store. Romain Charles, one of the Mars500 crew was also there with us and crewmate Diego Urbina arrived later. They tweeted away just like the rest of us and it was so nice to see them looking so fresh faced and excited. When I first met them in Rome they’d only just returned from their 520 day-long mission and were were being pulled in all directions to give presentations all over the place (including to us, poor things!).

We heard presentations from the top brass and learn about the 6.6 tonnes of cargo that ATV3 was carrying up to the station. From food, clothes, experiments and gifts, to water, gas and fuel for reboosting the ISS to ensure it remains in the correct orbit. Paolo Nespoli, looking smart in his blue suit, gave us the other side of the story. He was aboard the ISS when ATV2 arrived and he explained what it’s for the astronauts when this cargo ship arrives (they all rush to get a glimpse/take photos of it) and talked us through some of the docking process.

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Here is a diagram showing the “S points” that Paolo mentions. These are different check points as the ATV approaches the ISS:

Toulouse is home to the ATV Control Centre (think Mission Control) where mission staff were avidly watching screens and monitoring the progress of ATV3 “Edoardo Amaldi” on its final approach towards the international space station (ISS). We were allowed a glimpse through the glass just an hour or two before final docking. I took a quick video so you can get an idea of the place.

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Back in our TweetUp room we made the most of the tasty pastries and a fine selection of cheeses, before embarking on a speed-dating format which allowed us to talk to different experts in a more intimate setting. This is an idea I’ve used successfully at radio conferences and it was nice to be able to be part of it, rather than being the one ringing the bell and trying to shuffle people on to the next table. I liked it, and heard some interesting stuff from Sylvain Michel about the beginnings of the ATV programme and then from a chap I didn’t catch the name of who was an expert in space debris (note to self – it’s interesting, write about it).

Then it was almost time for the big moment. They dimmed the lights, and put the live pictures up on the big screen. We sat waiting, watching, and listening to Paolo Nespoli’s informative commentary. Then there it was – a perfect docking. Once again the probe was so accurate it didn’t even touch the sides of the target cone and instead managed to centre in on a space these size of two Euro coins. Pretty amazing for an automated vehicle.

We supped champagne, clinked glasses and toasted the success of CNES and ESA and well as the people who made this tweet up possible. We are forever grateful.

The after-dark ‘what happened next?’ story is a tale in itself, but involved some beer, some wine, some marsonauts, an angry hotel manager shouting “this is a hotel not a YMCA”, a nice French square, some crisps that looked like ‘Wotsits’ but were peanut flavoured, a live interview on BBC national radio, a stroll, a hotel bar, and then “is that the time, I better head to the airport for my flight”. I got to bed about 7am, so think I can claim to be a fully fledged member of the #sleeplessinToulouse gang, even though I never quite meant to be. It was all great fun though, and I’ve not smiled so much in a long time, so thank you all. Space is ace.

Check out the rest of my photos from ATVTweetUp and follow my adventures on Twitter as @SpaceKate

Photo courtesy of Roscosmos

I’m grinning from ear to ear.

As I type this, cosmonauts Anton Shkaplerov and Oleg Konenenko are engaged in a Russian spacewalk, whilst orbiting the Earth at 17,500 mph.

Cameras on the international space station, and also mounted on the cosmonauts’ helmets, are showing me their every move.

It’s fascinating.

A translator relays the conversation between the spacewalkers and mission control in Korolev, Russia.

During this spacewalk the pair were due to move a 46-foot (14 meter) crane from one part of the space station to another and install some shields to protect the station from space debris.

After grappling with the crane they ran out of time for installation of the shields and instead concentrated on taking some swab samples of surface residue from the Zvezda service module. The hope is to study the residue to get a better idea of the space station’s lifespan.

The reason I’m smiling… see CNN LightYears blog for the rest of this post (but in case you’re wondering, it’s because I know Anton and I’m incredibly proud of him. This is his first spacewalk and it’s exciting watching him taking his first steps!) There are some really cool quotes from Canada’s Commander Chris Hadfield, but I’m only allowed to quote the first 150 words of my story before linking to them, so off you go. 

I’ve been thinking for a long while that I should write reviews of different space centres and museums, and my visit to Cite de l’espace in Toulouse has finally motivated me to get on and do so.

I’ll be honest, I knew that they had a full scale model of an Ariane 5 rocket and I’d heard there was also an exact replica of parts of the Russian Mir space station that had been used for ground testing, but other than that, I wasn’t really expecting much. How wrong I was. This place is an absolutely fantastic space centre, full of beautifully designed displays, well-thought out informational signs and graphics and lots and lots of hands-on exhibits.

When I was younger and I went to the Science Museum in London I used to love the exhibits where you got to press a button and watch a model come to life and the Launch Pad area was always great fun. Cite de l’espace has a slightly less frenetic feel to it than the Science Museum’s Launch Pad area, but each gallery has some very clever interactive elements.

The first stop on our tour was the Mars exploration area complete with full size models of each of the Mars rovers. These were displayed in order of their launch, which also happens to reflect their increasing size and complexity. Seeing them all side by side like that really put them in perspective and by the time I reached Curiosity I couldn’t help feel that it is something of a monster really. It’s so huge! There were nice touches like models of Sojourner weighted to reflect the change in weight on Earth and on Mars. Even knowing that there would be a big difference, picking up the version weighted to show how it heavy it would feel on Mars, still surprised me. It’s a really effective way to learn.

I’ve always said the best way learn is by doing, and it’s so great to find a space park (they don’t like to think of themselves as a museum) that has realised this and obviously put such a lot of thought into how to do this.

We were lucky enough to be greeted by Florence Seroussi who works in the press office there. She gave us a fantastic tour of the place and was kind enough to spend a moment telling me about the way they designed it to ensure that people really got the most out of the exhibits.

Cite de l’espace has even designed a prototype “AstroJump” which allows you to experience something of what it might feel like to walk on the Moon or Mars. They weigh you, strap you into a sort of baby seat on a wheeled trolley, and then set the counterbalance to make it feel like you’re on a different planet. Then you can bounce your way along a little walk way, and grin. It really is so much fun, and it’s such a great idea. I’d happily recommend it to every science museum on the planet!

The walkway up towards the towering Ariane 5 takes you on a journey of perspective with photographs mounted on glass panes. They start at a normal magnification, then zoom out, further and further to show first streets, then countries, continents, the world, the solar system, the galaxy, and then other galaxies and the tangled mesh of space. It’s pretty effective as you see within a few steps how small you are in comparison to the rest of the universe. It’s a novel idea, and they’ve designed it beautifully. I really can’t fault them.

Just being there excited me. In part, because of the subject matter, but mainly because it was so clear that they really cared what they were doing and have made a real effort to ensure that everything there adds value. Beside the Ariane 5 was a school group launching water rockets – rockets by a rocket!

They all sounded like they were having fun, so much so they probably didn’t even realise how much they were learning. That in itself excites me.

We took a wonder through the Mir station, with Florence commenting that the only complaint she’d heard was that their version was tidier than the one in space!

Then treat of all treats, she let us sit inside a Soyuz capsule. Unlike the comparatively spacious airline style seats of the shuttle, the Soyuz capsule is really rather tiny. Astronauts lie in specially moulded bath-tub-esque seats, in a semi-feotal position awaiting their blast of into space. I’ve seen a Soyuz before, and been baffled as to how tall Italian astronaut Paolo Nespoli ever managed to fit inside it, but this was my first change at having a go myself. Of course I was unimpeded by a bulky spacesuit, so I felt quite fine and ready to head for the stars. The only way I could have grinned any wider was if they announced we were about to launch!

What a wonderous experience. I’ve sent a photo to cosmonaut Anton Shkaplerov who’s currently in space. Just so that he knows I’m ready, will and just the right size to join him on a Soyuz spaceflight some day.

Cite de l’espace also has a section on weather, with the chance for visitors to control the weather, see how measurements are taken, read a television bulletin, create a vortex and more. One of the most innovative elements in this gallery is the lift into space. Not quite the space elevator that people have suggested for space travel, but a display in which you can enter the lift, chose which floor you’d like to explore (troposphere, mesophere, stratosphere etc) and the video screens make you feel like you’re travelling up through them, giving you information along the way. It’s remarkably effective, and of course I chose to go all the way up!

There’s a 3D cinema, an astronaut training room for schoolchildren (and those small enough to climb through various tunnels to explore other planets), and they’ve even created a space-themed playpark for younger children to climb around model spacecraft. The whole place is wonderfully thought through, imaginatively designed, and full of people just waiting to tell you about space. There are buttons to press, things to touch and feel, and even the chance to go for a spin in a gyroscope. Something I persuaded (ok, maybe insisted!) the group give it try. I couldn’t help but giggle, whereas poor Nick Howes was a little more vocal. Tee hee.

Cite de l’espace surpassed all expectations, made me grin, and is up there with the very best space places to visit. Congratulations to the whole team there for creating a consistently engaging experience, and showing just how fun space education can be.