
In an expedition in Svalbard, a Norwegian archipelago in the Arctic Ocean, a chance conversation about satellites would change Rabea Rogge’s life forever. The 29-year-old Berlin-born robotics researcher made history in April 2025 as the first German woman in space aboard the privately funded Fram2 mission. For four days, she and three fellow polar enthusiasts became the first crew to orbit Earth at 90 degrees inclination, conducting over 20 scientific experiments while witnessing views of our planet previously known only to satellites. Rogge spoke to The Berliner to reflect on the experience of going from PhD student to astronaut and back again, and why she’s not dwelling on her cosmic achievement.
How does one end up meeting a Bitcoin billionaire on Svalbard who then invites you to space?
I dream of crossing Greenland on skis. To train for that, I went on a five-day expedition to Svalbard in March 2023. Eric Philips was our guide, who later flew to space with me, as did Chun Wang, who was participating in this expedition as well. I had just completed a satellite project and was so excited about it that I told everyone about it, whether they wanted to hear or not. We’re all very interested in future technologies, so we got into conversation. Half a year later, I received a WhatsApp message from Chun Wang, letting me know he had his own space mission with three additional seats. At first I was super excited for him until I realised: this is an invitation. It was a lucky fit that my background in extreme environments and polar research matched exactly what he was looking for.
The four-day Fram2 mission was several months ago, in April. If I had to flee Earth in a space capsule right now, what tips would you give me?
But when the countdown began and the rocket came to life, that is when it started feeling real… you realise: we’re lifting off!
Trust the technology and the ground team. Stay calm. The space capsule flies completely autonomously. You don’t train before getting on an airplane either – you trust the technology. In this case, the pilots are the spacecraft and the ground team. If you don’t trust that the situation is under control, you’ll be constantly afraid and it is easy to panic. It’s really mostly mental aspects, not physical. We didn’t even have rigid fitness training.
Wait, what? You didn’t have to jog every day for weeks and hit the gym, like in those old Apollo films?
No prescribed fitness training at all. We had a year of the same training as NASA and ESA astronauts for this vehicle, but we were the first crew in human history without trained aviation pilots. We trained extensively in simulations. The longest was 28 hours in a mock spacecraft – we even slept in there. We play through different scenarios: someone pretends to have a medical condition, like getting something in their eye or throwing up, while there is an alert going off, for example. That’s how they tested how we communicate and work together under stress and how to prioritise actions. We also had expedition training in Alaska for group dynamics. But today’s spaceflight has a different approach: it’s no longer about getting the perfect human into space with an imperfect system, but about creating the perfect spacecraft for every human. The only thing you might still need to train for physically, I reckon, are the spacesuits – they can be strenuous to handle.
What are your memories of the launch in Cape Canaveral, Florida?
Launch day felt exactly like being in the training spacecraft, except for the sound of fuelling and the rocket swaying slightly. We were watching our own livestream. In the background, you could see lightning from a massive thunderstorm. I was almost certain the launch would be cancelled because of it, so I was completely calm. But when the countdown began and the rocket came to life, that is when it started feeling real. It rumbles, presses you into your seat, and you realise: we’re lifting off!
What surprised you most in the first few hours?
Weightlessness! Just after we hit orbit, I saw the ends of our seatbelts floating up. It was fascinating. It is like entering a new world. You have to learn little details again, like a child. Liquids behave differently, and simple tasks become three-dimensional puzzles. I remember looking at Eric, who was already out of his seat, turning upside down. I took it slow, I had to throw up first. But for me it was just like being at sea – once the initial nausea is over, everything becomes much easier. After two or three hours it was fine, and until then I did things that didn’t require much movement.
How big was the space capsule, and what should one imagine life inside to be like?
It is like entering a new world. You have to learn little details again, like a child.
The capsule is about the size of a studio apartment. The rhythm is a rapid alternation between day and night. One orbit around Earth takes 90 minutes, half in darkness, half in light. You sleep in comfortable sleeping bags that you attach wherever you find space. With a sleep mask and earplugs, I actually felt like I slept well, but our experiment sensors told a different story: they registered an average of five to six hours of sleep per night. The food was pretty normal, though everything was cold. No astronaut food like you’d know from the past – we had things like lentil dal, for example. Just no crumbs allowed, because they would have spread everywhere.

You had over 20 experiments aboard. What was most exciting for you as a researcher and what are you planning to do with the results?
First, just to be clear, we are not the researchers ourselves, but we took the experiments of 20 brilliant research institutions with us, such as NASA, Charité Berlin and University of Zurich. They will investigate the data that we have collected and publish the results in peer-reviewed journals, so knowledge will be accessible. I loved all the experiments, but my favourite one was probably one that looked at navigational skills. We had different spatial navigation tasks to do before the mission, while on the mission and afterwards. And initial results show that we improved in our navigational skills after the mission! Even when thrown into a completely new environment, our brain can deal with it, which I find impressive. We humans really are masters of adaptation.
Roughly 700 people have ever been to space. That’s 0.00000860% of humanity. You’re literally one in 11 million people. How does that feel?
Very privileged. That was clear to all of us from the beginning; getting such a chance is the opportunity of a lifetime. That’s why it was so important to us to bring back knowledge and share the experience with people. That is why we also had some outreach projects, my favourite of which was an international amateur radio competition. Radios are a cool way to include students on the ground, because you have to point your antenna directly at the spacecraft when it is flying overhead: the most direct interaction there is! I hope the experience transferred some love and wonder for science to the students. I loved events like this as a kid and wanted to give the same experience back as much as I could.
More people climb Mount Everest every year than have ever been to space. Are we really a spacefaring civilisation, or are we just kidding ourselves?
I actually think we’re living in a time when the idea of space travel becoming as normal as air travel is increasingly realistic. Autonomous spacecraft open space to many more people, because the spacecraft takes over a lot of the tasks that historically astronauts have had to do, such as manoeuvring and docking. The next spacecraft in development will be able to host up to 100 passengers instead of just four.
You’re the first German woman in space – 46 years after the first German man did so. Were you hoping to step into this position as a role model for women?
For us in the crew, gender wasn’t a topic of conversation until the media asked about it. We were selected based on our backgrounds, not because we’re men or women. This is what we should strive for: a society where it is not a topic anymore. But of course I understand the media interest, and if I can give something back to other women through this, that’s great. In the end, though, it doesn’t help to just be a name in some history book. What’s much more important to me is showing that science and technology are for everyone.
Are you mad at Katy Perry?
Not at all. Different missions have different goals. With Katy Perry, it was about showing that you can go to space without years of training, even if it was only suborbital. It still takes courage to climb aboard such a rocket. We just had a different focus.
How do you view the increasing privatisation of spaceflight and the term s
pace tourism?
The advantage is definitely that many more people can get involved, creating a higher pace of innovation. It’s no longer limited to major space agencies. If I want to found a lunar startup tomorrow, I can do that. Even students can now create rovers, satellites or other cool space projects instead of being dependent on established institutions. Private missions make spaceflight more inclusive, and that’s how it should be. Many more people should have the chance to fly to space. The risk with experimentation, though, is fundamentally that you break something. You can see that, for example, with the debris now in low Earth orbit. But I think the opportunities outweigh the risks. It brings more dynamism and diversity to spaceflight.
If Elon Musk called tomorrow and said, “Rabea, you’re part of my crew for the Mars project,” would you go?
I’d have to think about it. It would definitely tempt me, though it would be a one-way trip – you’d have to establish a colony there. The opportunity to fly back would only come years later, if at all. That’s a whole different dimension than four days in orbit.
How was it being back on Earth after four days?
Very strange. We were only away for a very short time, but incredibly far away. During reentry, you could still see the entire planet, and within 20 minutes you were back on it. That felt really surreal. The first few days everything felt very heavy; my legs were weak. I was already used to just leaving things floating in the air. To me it is a marvel how fast the human body adapts to completely new conditions.
How has your life in Berlin been since returning? Do you feel the fame in everyday life, and do you feel like you’re falling into a hole like many astronauts, who deal with depression after their mission?
I’m only recognised when I’m wearing my mission gear, fortunately. They’re always very heartwarming encounters, so it doesn’t bother me. And no, I haven’t fallen into a hole. I reckon it depends on how much you identify with the mission. If it is everything to you and you make it your whole identity, it will be hard to let go. I don’t identify only as an astronaut. For me, this was a time-limited opportunity and I am still primarily a robotics researcher. I’m really excited about my PhD. Fortunately, I have a job I really love and am looking forward to getting back to testing algorithms on our autonomous motorboats in the fjords.
- Keep up with Rabea on IG @rabearogge
