Nonstop action...

I suppose that the reason I felt different during the visit to Baikonur yesterday after our jaunt to Toretam is that by comparison, Baikonur was already a familiar place. Egged on by that feeling, I ended the day wandering around a bit, and here I am standing on the banks of the Syr Darya, a river with a not insignificant history. The stairs behind me lead down to the water, into which I did manage to put a finger, though signs throughout the area (a park for relaxation) do warn people not to bathe in the river.

But I am getting ahead of myself. After wandering the market for 45 minutes, our group assembled near the entrance to the place and a couple of folks went in to the Vostok package store to pick up vital supplies (most containing some degree - about 40, if you'll pardon the cross-cultural pun - of alcohol).

I am continually amazed at how such small stores - typically with a minuscule customer area - can nevertheless maintain such a broad inventory (though not universal: diet soda has not been available for love or money for much of the campaign). In a small space that's nearly guaranteed to make four simultaneous customers feel positively claustrophobic, there is enough variety to challenge the average tourist.

After the market, our van took us to the "Arbat" area (maybe a kilometer away), where our group split into several factions headed in different directions. One group went off toward the river, while everyone else except for me and our security escort disappeared toward parts unknown. The escort and I went for a walk down the pedestrian mall, and then left toward the river, and onward, toward the town's only Russian Orthodox church.

We returned to eat at the Palermo Pizzeria, during which our escort was curious to see what he might look like in the hat that has become something of my trademark. Since no mirrors were available, I did the next best thing: I took his picture!

* * *Today started pretty early, at about 5 am, when I went down to breakfast. By 6 am, we were on the bus headed to the upper stage fueling station, where I would join four Pinkerton guards, two Astrium security guys, and a Russian escort in a compartment on the thermal car (a railcar-mounted air conditioner for the spacecraft).

The compartment is pretty small; I'd guess about 2 x 3 x 4 meters. There are two bench seats on opposite walls with a homemade table between them. Above the seats are two bunks, the type you do not suddenly sit up in (you'll dent the ceiling). I'd say our group pretty much maxed out the comfortable occupancy limit for the place, which showed signs of having been carefully crafted, over time, to meet the comfort requirements of the crew (e.g., foam insulation packed into various crevices around the window frame).

I found it curious that, in addition to a couple of crude drawings taped on the wall opposite the table, the reading material in the compartment consisted of a couple of crossword puzzle magazines and books by Jack London and Honoré de Balzac! If the presence of such literature was not enough, the wear on these tomes hinted at frequent use, too.

We got out to the pad in something just over 2-1/2 hours. Very soon after that, the consist left, leaving the space vehicle at the pad, sitting on its rail transporter.


By this time, the team was beginning to arrive for an orgy of photography and a team picture. We even managed to finagle a pass for one of our waitresses, Svetlana, who works for us 7 days per week and who, over the course of several campaigns, had yet to see a rocket up close.

Once the "verticalization" begins, it goes fairly quickly for the first 60 degrees or so, then slows down to make sure everything aligns properly between the rocket and the pad hardware. In the interim, everyone took turns taking pictures of each other, and just about everyone had their picture snapped together with Svetlana, myself included (though the image sits on someone else's camera). If her words of thanks on the way back weren't proof enough, you should have seen her in the dining hall at dinner: she surely must have been floating a few inches off the ground, and certainly had a big smile on her face!

Eventually, the process came to a halt and the rocket stood vertically upon its pad and everyone was happy. A local news team cornered the customer's representative and had him say a few words, which they then played back through earbuds while I did a simultaneous interpretation into a cell phone (being used as a tape recorder).


After coming back from the pad, there was a pause for lunch, after which I had a full afternoon supporting a couple of interpretation assignments around the hotel area. Then it was off to the полтинник for some last-minute stuff. I am bone tired, and believe I am the early guy tomorrow, which will bring us one day closer to launch, which will occur at around 4 pm on Thursday if you live in Colorado (4 am on Friday here). I think I will take a walk around the block, or something, and go to sleep.

Cheers...