Embark on a wild ride through the Kennedy Space Center complex in Florida

It’s rather difficult to miss the Vehicle Assembly Building. It’s one of the biggest buildings on Earth, and the Statue of Liberty could easily saunter inside without having to duck.

It’s the mammoth centrepiece of the gigantic Kennedy Space Center complex in Florida, and the size is because this was where space shuttles were put together and strapped onto a rocket before launching. A contraption called a crawler – effectively a supersized pallet truck – would then wheedle its way underneath and transport the shuttle to the launch site along a rocky track as large as an eight-lane highway.

The closest that Joe Public can get to the launch side is the L39 Observation Gantry, about a mile away. But inside, there’s a deluge of information that makes the scale of the logistical operation behind launching a space shuttle become terrifyingly apparent. After every shuttle mission returned, thousands of workers would spend four to six months going over every little detail ready for the next launch.

The KSC is the world’s most famous launch site, and it was selected to be the cornerstone of Nasa’s space programme in 1958. Merritt Island on the eastern coast of Florida was deemed to be the perfect spot, and a third of it was commandeered for the new Nasa base that would become known as Cape Canaveral.

While the shuttles are now in retirement, plenty of launches still take place here. Cargo loads to the International Space Station, GPS components and communications satellites are regularly fired up from the launch pads, and tickets for the viewing platforms are always in high demand.

Most of the people on site these days, though, are tourists rather than astronauts. And the big beasts on display strike awe into almost everyone who sees them.

The Saturn V rocket is the most complex, powerful machine ever developed. It sent man to the moon, and contains over two million separate systems. Inside the KSC's Great Hall, one lies on its side, longer than an American football field.

If Saturn V provides the high-impact wow, then the video presentations that back it up with fascinating details stick in the memory long after visiting. One is held in the control room that handled the launch of Apollo 8, and the simulated countdown to launch is surprisingly tense, giving the feel of being part of the events in real time. The other is a more gimmicky effort at telling the Apollo 11 story, and it goes through the astonishing number of problems encountered during the first Moon landing. Contact with the control centre in Houston cut out regularly, and a serious navigation error steered the Eagle lunar module towards a rocky landing. Had Neil Armstrong not taken manual control and steered towards a safer spot, it would never have taken off again. He and Buzz Aldrin would have walked on the moon, then stayed until their oxygen ran out.

It’s one thing learning about astronauts, but quite another actually meeting one. As part of the KSC’s Astronaut Training Experience, there’s a briefing from a man or woman who has been there, done that for real.

The physicist Sam Durrance spent more than 615 hours in space, yet he still seems to have the sense of childlike wonder about it. “We spent a lot of time at the cabin window, just looking down at Earth,” he says. “It’s awe-inspiring.”

While he’s still got the enthusiasm, he’s remarkably down to earth about the training. “The simulators are accurate to each nut and bolt,” he explains. “You can isolate one component in 10,000 and fail it; the simulator will respond as the shuttle would, and we’d have to fix it.”

The physical toll was gruelling. He spent 35 days in quarantine before and after his first flight, and had to be vigorously cross-trained. At one point, he had to cram into a one-metre-­diameter “transfer ball” without being told when he’d be allowed out.

It was a deep-end claustrophobia test that Durrance showed he had the character for. “I just went to sleep,” he admits.

Part of the point of the Astronaut Training Experience is to give would-be space explorers a taste of the training.

The first test is on a simulator, to land a computerised shuttle as cleanly and as accurately as possible, and the winner gets to be the commander for the simulated mission later on. Precision and gentle nudges are the key as the runway comes into view; the flight path diamond needs to be aligned with a target circle on the screen, while landing speed, angle of descent and position on the runway are all crucial.

Results are mixed. Most contenders manage to get the shuttle on the runway, although one particularly hapless pilot manages to dunk her craft into the sea.

Later, the tests get physical – including the multi-axis trainer. It’s essentially a torture device – you’re strapped in, and then it starts spinning and lurching at all angles. The key factor is the lack of consistency. You never know which way you’re going to be turned, upheaved and jolted next, and the brain can’t reliably budget for patterns. It’s extraordinarily disorientating, and staggering out after a minute of it is put into perspective once I’m told that astronauts regularly undergo 15-minute sessions in there.

The final stage is the mission, in a simulator that’s an exact replica of a space-shuttle cockpit. Everyone is given a role – such as attaching something to the International Space Station with a robotic arm or directing things from Mission Control – and a script to run with. Said scripts are essentially a giant soup of inexplicable acronyms, and the mission regularly descends into farce.

The robotic arm narrowly avoids smashing into the side of the space station, and a simulated fire provokes responses so inept that in the real world, they’d result in certain death. But the joy of a simulation is that you can pretend these things never happened. After a safe landing, the thrill of feeling like returning heroes surges through the entire crew. There’s whooping and air-punching. And no one on Earth needs to know about what went wrong.

Beyond the Space Center

Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge: The chunks of Merritt Island that weren’t set aside for Nasa were turned into a 56,000-hectare wildlife sanctuary that more than 500 species call home. The Black Point Wildlife Drive is the best place to spot alligators, otters and bird life. There’s also a good collection of easily manageable hiking trails. For more information, visit www.fws.gov/merrittisland.

Kayaking: A Day Away (www.adayawaykayaktours.com; 001 321 268 2655) offers kayaking tours through the National Wildlife Refuge, with regular spottings of manatees and dolphins. Standard daytime tours cost US$30 (Dh110), but it’s worth considering the night tour for something different. The water is bioluminescent, meaning the paddle blades light up like fairy dust as they cut through it.

Surfing Cocoa Beach: The brash but still fairly laid-back surf town of Cocoa Beach was the birthplace of the 11-time world surfing champion Kelly Slater. It’s an excellent place to learn to surf, with the Ron Jon Surf School (www.ronjonsurfschool.com; 001 321 868 1980). Beginner lessons cost from $50 (Dh184) per hour.

Canaveral National Seashore:

In general, Florida’s beaches are blighted by development. But the Canaveral National Seashore (www.nps.gov/cana), created at the same time as the Nasa base and National Wildlife Refuge, shows what it should be like. Miles of barely touched white-sand beaches, some of which can’t be reached by car, are worth the effort of getting to. In June and July, rangers lead night-time tours to the beaches to watch sea turtles lay their eggs in the sand. Tours cost $14 (Dh51) and need to be booked in advance.

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