There is no telescope at the Observatory, and the roof of the tent is plain black canvas. Cushions are scattered on the ground. You take one and wait. After a while, dots begin to appear on the canvas, as if someone above is pushing pins through the material. Soon, the canvas has melted into the sky, and familiar constellations wheel above you. They're close, though, as if the roof of the tent were a vast telescopic lens. The lens shifts, and now you're seeing the Southern Cross and Carina, the keel of the Argo - stars unknown to this part of the world. When the tour deposits you back in familiar skies, it's like coming home after months in a strange land.