Space tourism, we’re told, is about to blast off. Only trouble is, the prices are stratospheric. The Russian Space Agency charges £10m for a return flight to space; and when Virgin Galactic, the new Branson brainwave, launches in 2009, the two-hour, suborbital joyrides will go at the no-frills rate of £100,000. The final frontier is clearly reserved for software billionaires, Russian oligarchs and the odd unhinged British lottery winner.

So, forget Virgin Galactic and take Virgin Atlantic to Florida for the next best thing. This weekend, the Kennedy Space Center, the thinking man’s theme park, opened the summer’s most spectacular ride: a £30m simulation of a space-shuttle launch.

Just a 45-minute drive from the tiresome fantasies of Orlando, this could easily have been another disappointing bit of product-placement imagineering. Last week, I was the first journalist to get a ride (four rides, in fact), and I can tell you that it’s not. It’s bloody terrifying.

The preflight briefing for the Shuttle Launch Experience takes place in a high-tech, low-lit facility, like something from a Doctor Who set. Huge plasma screens are used to explain the ludicrous business of throwing men into space. The external fuel tank contains 143,351 gallons of liquid oxygen and 385,265 gallons of liquid hydrogen; attached to it are two solid rocket boosters, each containing about 500 tons of high-explosive ammonium perchlorate. “In effect, you’re taking an explosion and trying to control it,” says astronaut Michael P Anderson. “There are a million things that can go wrong.”

Then you’re ushered into the simulator, a 44-seat unit Nasa would like you to believe has been fitted into the cargo bay of a real shuttle. As you tip into the vertical prelaunch position, all you can see is the nose of the fuel tank extending before you, above it only sky. The distant voice of the capsule communicator seems mockingly detached from your plight as his countdown reaches zero, the engines ignite and the shuttle lurches skywards.

The simulator’s visual effects are as spectacular as the noise is deafening. Above the roar, the craft creaks, as though struggling against the opposing forces of gravity, air resistance and the engines’ seven million pounds of thrust to avoid collapsing like an empty beer can. In contrast to this crushing, earth-defying power, the 747 that brought me here offered a piffling 200,000 pounds of thrust.

Mach 1 is reached in less than a minute. By now, your head is being forced back against the seat and your jowls are wobbling like a fat girl on a tumble dryer. I’ve no idea how they achieve this effect on something that isn’t moving, but they’re Nasa, and they’re wilier than a crate of coyotes.

At two minutes and two seconds, you’ve reached 3,000mph and you feel a bit sick, but you’re now at the point astronauts call negative return. It means there’s no going back, and from here on, the ride gets rougher still, the vibrations throwing passengers hard against their restraints, beer bellies and breasts oscillating uncontrollably. After eight minutes and 32 seconds, the shuttle is hurtling heavenwards at 17,500mph, pulling 25g.

Suddenly, it all goes quiet. You’ve reached earth orbit, and Meco – Main Engine Cutoff. A postcoital calm falls across the ship, a pint of exhilaration with a chaser of relief, then, as you hang upside down in your seat, the cargo doors open and you look down on Italy, drifting by 115 miles below.

This could have been cheesy. Nasa could have signed a deal to use Luke Skywalker as the commentator, or blended ET into the concept, but it didn’t. It relies instead on the real stars, the men and women who rode the molotov monster to the final frontier; and by keeping it real, they’ve created the scariest ride in the world.

Getting there: Virgin Holidays (0870 220 2788, www.virginholidays.co.uk ) has seven nights at the Rodeway Inn, in Orlando, for £699pp, including flights from Gatwick and car hire. Entrance to the Kennedy Space Center (www.kennedyspacecenter.com ) costs £19 for adults and £10 for children.

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