The European Space Agency

French Guiana is an odd place in South America. As the name entails, it’s French speaking, but, not only that, it's officially and legally a department in France, and therefore, after over a year in South America, I was back in the EU. As an EU member, it uses the Euro, it’s got Frontex guarding the borders, and it’s also the launch site for satellites of the European Space Agency.

Now, a lot of people don’t know that there’s such a thing as the European Space Agency. Founded in 1964 originally as both the ELDO (European Launch Development Organisation) and ESRO (European Space Research Organisation), it’s been launching satellites since 1975. It’s a pretty big deal, launching Ariane 5 rockets for all the European countries. And, as EU citizens, you can sign up to watch any launch, for free, provided you make it to French Guiana yourself.

I found this out in Brazil, at the end of November 2019, and lo and behold, there was a launch happening on the 18th of December 2019. I signed right up. When are you ever gonna be near French Guiana again to see this? I crossed from the border town of Opipoque in Brazil, across the Opipoque river to Saint George, the day before. This was an odd border crossing - I had to search for the border police to stamp me out of Brazil, then hopped into a metal canoe and sped up and across the river, Amazonian jungle crowding the brown of the river, up to the pier of Saint George.

French Guiana was as pricey as France proper, if not more, with zero of the public transport. It was a €40 shared taxi to Cayenne, the capital, a 3 hour drive, and I found a group of lads driving to Kourou that I hitched a lift with. But, been proactive, I’d arranged on couchsurfing a place in Kourou where I could hang a hammock, on the porch of this Austrian guy called Wolfgang. Wolfgang was a serious, cold demeanour fella, but he told me to help myself with the hammock. He planned to stay in Kourou for another year working at the ESA, and then get out with a fat pension. He was not a fan of the place.

Kourou doesn’t have much going for it. It was an almost forgotten village of 700 people, until the 1960s, when the French decided to stick a launch pad here. They chose here specifically, as it’s just off the equator, so it's easier to get rockets in the sky because it’s closer to the outer atmosphere. It’s lightly populated, and has empty ocean just north and east of it, so if something goes wrong and the rockets fall out of the sky, chances are they won’t hit anyone. The only thing Kourou was known for in the past, was that it was the closest village to the Devils Islands, the strictest penal colony in the times of the second French Empire and Third French Republic. I walked around it looking for a place to buy a mosquito net for my hammock, and it still maintained that oppressive atmosphere, and it’s overbearingly hot, exceptionally humid, and generally, not a nice place to be walking about in.

But back at Wolfgang’s, I hung up a hammock for the first time, with a lot of effort. I was up at 2am the next morning for the meet up before the launch, where there’d be registration and a bus to the space center, launch planned at 5:53.20AM. Wolfgang had warned me that Guiana is dodgy, but there weren't many options but to walk for half an hour in the dark to the meet up point, watching shadows and being awful wary of cars. It pissed rain the whole way. I got there drenched but with all my belongings, and checked in at a school, got a lanyard, and was more asleep than excited. But after getting the bus in, in the observatory of the space center, I felt a sudden rush of European pride- 28 countries working together to shoot a satellite into space? All different languages,cultures, etc? The Irish flag up there too? Thats fucking class.

They also had fresh croissants and pain au chocolate, which were class too. I was getting more and more excited, there was a bit of energy around, people were waking up and the atmosphere was building, the cameras were all being set up, when, 55 minutes before the launch, the word came- not happening today.

We were all brought back to the pick up place in silence. I was so disappointed, fuck. In French Guiana, just happened to be the same day as the launch, I got out of Brazil when they wanted to keep me an extra few days, and this happened? I walked back dejected, and tried to sleep in my hammock. Turns out hammocks are a bitch to sleep in, and having no pillow or blanket doesn't help. The mosquito net was a lifesaver though.

Luckily, I had a plan B for the day. Devils Island, or the Ile de Salut. After trying to sleep for an hour, I got up, and called the boat company, they had space, so on y va. Initially there were only a few locals, but,little by little more tourists came, and we hopped on the ferry (45 euro). It was still pissing rain. The Ile was pretty nice to visit, doing the walk around spotted some monkeys and wild guinea pigs, and the prison itself is fairly creepy. Not Auschwitz or Killing Fields creepy, but overgrown and creepy all the same. 7 hours on the island is enough for me, better than 20 years that Dreyfus and some other lads ended up staying.

I got back around 6pm, to an email from Space Centre- the launch is on again tomorrow. Please call to confirm you are coming. I rang. I got a pre-recorded voice message that gave zero information, except that it was after 5pm, so please call again during normal working hours. So I asked Wolfgang what to do- he had no idea. There was no way to confirm that I was going to be there again, what to do. Well, chance it, obviously. I assumed it’d be the same procedure as the day before.

Another 2 am start, rolling off my hammock. I walked down the same dodgy road in the dark, to the same spot- with one difference this morning, this time, there was no one there. The place was deserted, no pick up bus, rien. And it was an hour and 20 minutes walk to the space centre, where the sign in ends in 1 hour 30. Hmm. Kourou isn’t full of taxis at 2:30 on a Wednesday, so, for the first time in my life, I tried hitchhiking. In the dark, while walking towards the space center.

45 minutes into the walk, a guy pulls over, and I hop in. I’m amazed, who picks up hitchhikers in the dark? He’s a French lad who speaks perfect English, and he’s on his way to work in the ESA. Naturally, he’s a little suspicious of what I’m doing, hitchhiking to try to get into the Space Center the morning of a launch, but after flashing yesterday's lanyard, he relaxes a little. Still doesn’t think I’ll get in, and he doesn’t want to be late for work, but said he’ll drive up to security, and if they wave us on, it’s grand. I can understand how it might seem a little dodgy, and he didn’t like it when I started asking him why the launch was cancelled yesterday (He blamed an electrical problem on the Russian side).

We pull up to the security post.The security raps on my window, I wind it down and flash the lanyard. He doesn’t even glance at it, just waves me on, and I’m in. I get dropped off in the carpark, thank your man, and he points me in the general direction of the observation deck. Lovely.

Except.. It’s dark, and this morning the launch is from a different observation deck. So I’m wandering around the European Space Agency at 4 in the morning, satellite launch in two hours, checking if doors are open, when I’m grabbed from behind. More security. He apprehends me, shouting in French. Time to play the lost tourist card. I gesture at the lanyard, and ask, politely, where to go. I’m lost. I’m not a spy. He points me in the right direction, and, finally, I’m in. Mission Control is right in front of us, we’re on a raised seating area looking through glass windows behind them. It’s exactly how the movies portrayed NASA. Class. There’s free food and coffee again. Class. And then a presenter comes out and we’re told: The launch is going ahead. Class.

We go outside, and can see a glow in the distance, it’s still dark in Kourou. We’re 23 kms away, and i’s that bright! Then, a twist from NASA - the countdown is in French. Trois Deux Uns liftoff! I’ve never seen anything like it.

Imagine a sunrise, but in one tiny part of the sky, and it rises up to the middle of the atmosphere in 6 or 7 seconds.. then disappears behind a cloud, making the cloud glow as if there’s a fire burning behind it. Then coming out the other side of the cloud- Its a sight I’ll never forget. Amazing. Then in Mission Control, there was a real time camera showing the pieces drop off- and a cheer for the COSMOS lads when their satellite split off successfully.

More free breakfast, some of which I took with me,proper french pastries, and then how to get back to Wolfgangs? I walked towards the entrance, and decided to chance hitchhiking again. Lots more traffic after the successful launch, and get picked up easily. This guy was telling me, in French, that it didn’t go as smoothly as it seemed, and there were a ton of problems. What those problems were, I didn’t understand. Now back to my hammock for a good sleep, and to head to Suriname tomorrow.