This is the first of a series of articles I wrote for my local astronomy society (CLASS) newsletter that I thought I'd post here. They are not meant to be a serious attempt to tackle any of the subjects with any sort of authority. I was aiming more for an entertaining series of articles on the kind of trials and tribulations that are common to amateur astronomers. Or as I recently introduced one of my articles "It's the usual mix of pop culture references and dubious facts wrapped around a vaguely astronomical theme"

O Andromeda, Andromeda, wherefore art thou Andromeda?

One of the first things you're going to want to look at when you buy a telescope is the Andromeda galaxy. You'll have seen the photo's in the astronomy magazines or on the internet and be filled with excitement at the thought of looking through your new toy and gazing upon a beautifully detailed galaxy that will fill you with awe and make the several hundred/thousand pounds you spent seem like the bargain of the century. If only it were so. Let's first address the disappointing reality, you won't see anything like the images from the magazines, in fact you can simulate the actual visual observation of the Andromeda galaxy and avoid the frustrating search for it thus.

Step 1. Sneeze on a window pane.

Step 2. Observe the resultant mess through a plastic magnifying glass you won in a Christmas cracker whilst standing ten feet away in a fairly dark room.

Congratulations that strange, blurry blob you can just about make out looks exactly like the Andromeda galaxy will if you can ever find it with your telescope.

The problem with Andromeda is one of expectation. You've seen the pictures, you've read the article that says it’s actually three times the width of the full moon (or something). You will imagine therefore that you'll only have to point your telescope somewhere in the general direction and it will leap out at you in glorious Technicolor.

What will in fact happen is this. You'll start by casting around in the general direction hoping to stumble across it. You'll continue with this method for a while and depending on how enthusiastically you swing your scope around you'll probably discover the double cluster in Cassiopeia. Congratulations this is the first step in finding this elusive galaxy. Not because Andromeda is really close to the double cluster but simply that the happy mistake of finding this beautiful object will sustain you through the dark, frustrating hours to come.

Next you'll attempt the methodical approach of star hopping. Taking out your torch you'll shine it on a printout of the constellations and you'll work out where you need to look. Stare hard at the picture to burn it into your mind. Look up and try to orientate yourself as the details of what you're looking for leak out of your brain. Go back to the torch, stare hard, lookup. Repeat until you're certain you have hopped from star to star and you’re definitely, positively in the right place.

You will be looking in the wrong place. Accept this fact now, it will save time. Due to light pollution in your garden you'll be at least one star away from where you should be. You'll look through the eyepiece anyway and it won't be there. At this point you'll wish you'd handed over more cash for the GOTO option you didn't buy because you thought it was cheating. You'll try and use the finder scope and see too many stars but without it you'll see too few. You'll wish you'd at least bought a red dot finder; they're only £20. You'll have another look at the double cluster as now you've stumbled across it once you can find it again easily and you'll calm down and resume your search for Andromeda.

Many hours later you’ll manage to stumble across a strange blurry blob that will look nothing like the pictures in the magazines and decide you’ve finally found it. You’ll check the view through the finder scope and be able to see it clearly in there too and wonder why it took so long. You’ll look at where your scope is actually pointing compared to where you were originally looking and realise you were several stars and about a million light years away from the correct spot.

And then the magic happens. You’ll feel a sense of achievement certainly but once that has passed you’ll think about what you’re actually looking at. OK it’s a fairly indistinct blob in your eyepiece but since you have seen the stunning pictures in the magazines you know precisely what you’re looking at; a complete other galaxy almost identical to our own made up of a trillion stars and many trillions of planets (probably). Some of those stars are just like our own sun and some just as old and standing there alone in the dark you’ll wonder if there’s someone on a planet somewhere in Andromeda struggling to find the milky way and deciding they need to start saving up for a GOTO mount too.