Disappointingly, the original ‘60s control panel originally used to steer the telescope has been replaced by a computer. “We did have a console that resembled something out of Thunderbirds,” says Sarkissian, “with dials and globes, it looked really cool.”

Nevertheless, away from the electronic equipment racks of the control room, most of the original technology remains. Sarkissian checks the dish is locked pointing straight upwards towards the sky (the stowed position) before we clamber outside onto the circular walkway at the top of the supporting tower. Above us are the heavy-duty motors, greasy wheels and gears of the tilting mechanism.

A flight of stairs, two narrow ladders and a fright involving a trapped bird later and we are on an open gangway directly beneath the dish. With the ground six storeys below and the wind picking up, it feels horribly exposed.

“You can think of the dish as a glorified beach umbrella,” says Sarkissian. “Even when there’s a light wind blowing, it puts a lot of pressure on the dish surface so we have to be careful.”