We went to the Kennedy Space Center (KSC) yesterday. We arrived around ten-thirty and left the KSC just after four. The tickets are really expensive – $50 for adults. We opted to do an additional launch pad tour via bus for another $25. The launch pad tour guide fancied himself a comedian; I didn’t fancy him at all. He joked that it was a five-and-one-half hour tour: I immediately felt like a hostage. The best part of the tour was the alligators and dolphin we saw from the bus. The second best part of the tour was when it ended. The bus dumped us at a satellite building where we watched two films about the history of space exploration, and from there we emerged into a giant room to see a real Saturn 5. That, was cool.
The food at the KSC is fucking awful. I had fish tacos that made my Aunt Elizabeth’s Thanksgiving turkey seem moist: the tortilla must have been sitting out on the counter for days, the fish must have died of dehydration, and the special sauce must have been so special that only an eye dropper’s amount could be spared. I should have bought the over-priced freeze-dried ice cream in the gift store instead.
We toured the Atlantis space shuttle exhibit, and Kim and I did the "space shuttle" ride. We didn't get a chance to see the Mars exhibit or walk through the Hall of Fame. If we weren't staying over an hour away, we might have gone back today because our admission tickets are good for six days. I would go back to see those exhibits someday; and, I'd pack a lunch.
Today, Kate drove over an hour each way today to see a client, Kim walked five miles to go grocery shopping, and I worked out and spent the majority of my day collecting names and addresses for my postcard mailing. When Kate returned, we walked the half mile from our site to the beach to let the dogs run on the beach and in the surf. They were happy to have the freedom to play: they got wet, sandy, and drank lots of ocean water. Last night, Kate cut up our broccoli and I had her give them the ends; tonight, she gave them the ends of the asparagus. They love her.
Siobhan M. Knox
In May 2016, I bought a five ton, 25’ long Class C motorhome because I like to drive, I like to travel, and it’s more fun and less expensive than living in a hotel. No prior RV experience was required, and I had none: perfect. I’m writing a book about my adventures which will come to an end when I get a job. The dogs will be sad.