Texas has a reputation for doing everything bigger than anywhere else. And Houston is as big as it gets. The first thing I noticed as we entered the city yesterday afternoon were the twelve lane freeways, which made quite an impression (and not a good one) on a girl from a small village in Suffolk whose childhood home was reached via a single track lane. I gripped my seat and closed my eyes every time we veered around the corner of one of Houston's numerous overpasses at 80mph - the last time I experienced bends like that was at Alton Towers. Unfortunately, our trusty GPS guide seemed utterly bamboozled by Houston's traffic system and we ended up taking numerous false turns and dead ends before eventually finding our hotel. All of us felt like crashing out after the four-hour drive from Austin, but it was the Fourth of July and there was no possibility that we were going to pass up the opportunity to witness the 'Nation's Largest Land-Based Fireworks Show'. I had checked out the website for the event in anticipation of our arrival and noticed the line: 'Admission to the event is FREE with the donation of one canned item per person to the Houston Food Bank'. We therefore dispatched Simon to the local grocery store and, four tins of delicious processed ravioli safely on board, we set out en voiture towards Eleanor Tinsley Park for the 'Freedom Over Texas with Fireworks Presented by Shell' extravaganza. Unfortunately, it soon became clear that we were not going to have any luck driving anywhere near the park - the traffic was backed up along the routes leading to the venue. So we followed the lead of the locals, parked our car by the side of the road and joined the crowds amassing on the traffic bridge. Fourth of July fireworks from a flyover in Houston. Classy. But fun.
This morning, we took a trip to Houston's famous Space Center, formally known as 'The Official Visitors Center of NASA's Johnson Space Center, the home of astronaut training and Mission Control'. Established in September 1961 as the Manned Spacecraft Center (it was renamed in honour of LBJ in 1973), the Houston base became the centre of space research and operations as the Americans worked to achieve President Kennedy's vision of landing a man on the moon before the end of the decade. The is where the spacecraft were designed, developed and tested, where the astronauts were trained and the scientific experiments to be conducted in space were cooked up. Much of this work continues today - the space center is still NASA's main working facility and visitors are permitted to tour certain parts of the campus - but there is no doubt that Houston's heyday was in the 1960s. With the exception of the Visitors Centre, the whole place feels very worn and drab - the campus is rather desolate, with lots of grey wire fences and black & white photos recalling the heady days of the Space Race.
We were rather pushed for time so regrettably we didn't make it to the Blast Off Theater or the Astronaut Gallery or the Feel of Space presentation, which all looked quite fun. Instead, we headed straight for the NASA tour. We were whisked around the site in little trains - passing by the rocket boosters used in the Mercury and Apollo programs - and were deposited at Mission Control. We climbed several flights of stairs and entered a 1960s time warp. The mission control room itself was strangely familiar and felt like a cross between a museum and a film set (in fact, it felt odd not to see Ed Harris sitting in the Flight Director's chair) although it is still used as a working facility, providing back-up to the new mission control room, which is now housed elsewhere on the compound. I was astounded that the antiquated giant computers in front of us worked at all, and even more surprised to learn that they had still been used as NASA's main mission control system until the 1990s.
As we were reminded on numerous occasions during our tour, the future for manned spaceflight looks very uncertain - at least from NASA's perspective. In April 2010, President Obama announced that the 'Constellation Program' - a human spaceflight program with the aim of sending astronauts to the Moon by 2020 and thereafter to Mars, at a cost of approximately $230 billion (yes, billion) - would be cancelled. This means that the last manned U.S. spaceflight will take place in Feb 2011 and the busiest shuttles in Houston will thereafter be the little ones ferrying the tourists around. Obama's decision was based on his view that the Constellation Program was too costly, behind schedule and 'lacking in innovation'. Ouch. The President wants to reinvest the Constellation budget back into NASA (whose budget is still a whopping $100bn over the next 5 years) but concentrate efforts instead on developing commercial space flight, with collaboration from the private sector. This approach has already had some success - the innovative Ansari X Prize offered $10 million to the first non-government entity that could design and launch a reusable manned craft into space twice within two weeks. The prize was won in 2004 by Burt Ratan's SpaceShipOne but, more importantly, it is estimated that $100m was invested in new technologies by other private investors in pursuit of the prize. The only problem with this approach is that there will be a period between the last Space Shuttle flight and the development of new commercial space transport systems when the U.S. loses the capability to launch space missions. I was rather alarmed to hear that from 2011 onwards, we will be entering a 'human spaceflight gap'. Sounds terrifying - the sort of thing one could unexpectedly slither into.
Space tourism is still in its infancy but if you've got $200,000, you can join the other 80,000 individuals who have already signed up for a little spacehop with Virgin Galactic. And if you have a spare $20-$35 million, then Space Adventures of Vienna, Virginia would be happy to sort you out with a sejourn at the International Space Station. Better still, the opportunity to become 'the world's first lunar explorer' is still up for grabs. So if you fancy journeying to the far side of the moon, you can make a reservation on their website now. The drop-down menu is genuinely funny - it makes travelling to the moon sound as easy as booking a weekend in New England. You will need to give your name and contact details and then choose from the following options:
Which program are you most interested in?
Circumlunar Spaceflight / Orbital Spaceflight / Orbital Spaceflight with Spacewalk / Suborbital spaceflight / Spaceflight Training / Launch Tour / Zero Gravity Training
What is the nature of your interest:
I would like to make a reservation / I have a specific question / Send me an electronic brochure / Add me to your marketing list
When would you be participating:
As soon as possible / Sometime this year / In the next 5 years / Lifetime goal / I have to save the money first
I have a sneaking suspicion that the majority of people go for the bottom option on the last question.
The last item on our must-see list for Houston was the Menil Collection. Unfortunately, we discovered that the gallery does not open on Mondays, but we did make it to the adjoining Rothko Chapel. This somber space is open to people of all faiths and denominations who fancy spending some time sitting on wooden benches contemplating exactly what possessed Rothko to make the place quite so purple. It frankly feels like the work of a man on the brink of suicide. Having said that, as a quiet, meditative space, it works extremely well as there is little to focus on except one's own thoughts. There were a handful of people sitting silently in the peaceful haven, including a young girl sitting in the back of the chapel, her eyes streaming with tears.
And with that, we sped off to the George Bush Intercontinental Aiport to catch our flight back to Washington. It has been a wonderful long weekend in Texas and it was with some regret that we boarded our plane and headed home to D.C. But there's always an up-side: We have four tins of ravioli and some fantastic photos as wonderful mementos of our trip.