Monthly Archives: July 2020

Crewing a Mission to Mars: we’ll go*

Dear Elon, Jeff, Narendra, Li, Khalifa**

Loving your ambition! Way to explore the Solar System! Mars expects… awaits… is out there… all that jazz.

Anyways, I’ll get straight to it. When you are looking to crew missions to the red planet – after the risky, life-endagnering ones, where you sent those “right stuff” types obvs – then by all means give us a shout. Why us? Well, simply, we have undergone a rigorous dry-run. IE: We’ve been really good at that lockdown business. Surely this qualifies us for an epic adventure in the next chapter of the humankind? (I mean that and the 24/7 evidence of this planet seeming to be fully intent on going to shit, yeah?) Plus, we haven’t missed work as much as you’d think and in space there’s nowhere to spend earnings anyway. Also, can wear a mask, no complaints, no problem. (Am guessing spacesuits have masks in?) Oh, and by “epic adventure” I mean “happy to repeat sitting indoors for several months watching Netflix” now that I’ve proved it can be done on terra firma.

Look, if the Mars thing isn’t a goer, then we’d be prepared to do the “stasis” gig if you have a pop at one of Saturn’s moons instead. God knows, if I’d’ve known we were still going to be this uncertain about the future six months ago… Pop me in a cryo-chamber and wake me up when we reach orbit.

So, to finish. We’d be great explorers. Annnnd we’d teach English to everyone because surely – I mean have you seen Star Wars et al – that’s the language the universe should use by default. Proper, British English natch.

Ciao-ciao

The Beers

PS: Checking question? Can you confirm that your ships have decent coffee? (Union preferred.) Yorkshire Tea? Cups and saucers? Wouldn’t want you to make basic errors in hot drink arena: morale would plummet.


*That said, before we sign up, there are a few provisos. The non-negotiable rider requirements are as follows:

  1. An hour getting out and about every day.

Is it too much to ask? It’s that being cooped up 23hours a day means we can have an hour off right? Nothing too extravagant, just a bit of fresh air. Only we took the government word on “you’re allowed an hour” to mean we had to and it was really good to actually exercise more than normal tbf.

So a “popping out for an hour” system en route for fresh air, a stroll, a bike ride? I’ll leave the details to you.

  1. An “out of lockdown” celebratory slap up dinner.

On arrival at “base” – see, I know all the words – we would like a dinner. Recently, we had our first meal out since UK lockdown and it was bloody marvellous. So, an arrival party – cava is fine as long as the glasses are chilled – would surely be splendid for morale? As a template, you’d do worse than recreating the Crab House Café of the Dorset coast. Now, it’s going to be tricky recreating your own oyster beds but c’mon… you’re billionaires! The décor could be rustic and the kitchen/shellfish tanks are on show. I can’t tell you the joy if sitting down to eat food cooked by another. (Special touch: one of our party found a bona fide pearl in her oyster. What are the chances?! One in ten thousand. That’s the actual number of chances. So, could you arrange? Thanks everso. Any fresh seafood would be fine, we’re not fussy.)

  1. TBC

I haven’t asked the fam’ yet, but they are bound to have their own request-ettes. EG: the boy has enjoyed walking next door’s dog for instance. (Oh hell, no: we don’t want a pet dog. But it is nice taking a dog for a walk occasionally.) Also, don’t cancel major fixtures. No Wimbledon once was accepted by herself under the circumstances. But twice? No, I don’t think so.


**delete as appropriate, I mean it’s not a race – at least not for me – and I’m not fussy whose craft we use. Will universal history give a crap which nation state “won” the space race? No. No it won’t.

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