Watching Gravity only served to confirm what I had long suspected, that a trip into outer space would probably not represent quite my cup of tea. (Do they say outer space any more? Or is that a throwback to the home-made science fiction serials of my youth? Outer seems a half-hearted sort of adjective for the infinite vastness of the universe. The Outer Hebrides, for example, are certainly quite a distance away from here, yet even they are not quite on the same scale as a trip to the moon.)
Clearly, there was never much chance of ever getting the opportunity to fly into orbit, short of winning the lottery and spending it all on becoming a space tourist. But even then, I suspect I would find better uses for the money that didn't involve the risk of serious injury or being abducted by aliens. I suppose I am not one of life's natural adventurers, preferring to explore the wonders of the universe from the comfort of the armchair, ideally with a couple of chocolate digestives to hand. However, I am younger than George Clooney, so perhaps there is still hope.
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