The Economist.
We started at six o'clock in the morning to do all the preparations.
Stefan Olmer is an experimental physicist at CERN,
the enormous particle physics laboratory on the border between France and Switzerland.
We prepared on our side, you know, like disconnecting the device from its infrastructure, recooling the particles.
Took about three hours, then the transport service arrived and put it onto a crane.
And craning the thing out of the facility took about 20 minutes.
Then we were putting it onto a truck.
That truck, which looks like the kind of small lorry you might expect to be carrying parcels down your street,
went on to trundle around the laboratory's campus.
I was actually driving behind the transport truck in my car,
measuring the velocity explicitly, and I have seen 43 kilometres per hour as maximum speed.
But what was particularly intriguing about that vehicle was what was written on the side.
Antimatter in motion.
That's right, antimatter.
The exceedingly rare, volatile and poorly understood particles
that have caused a century of head scratching for physicists.
CERN has been routinely creating antimatter for decades.
In recent years, they've figured out how to capture and store antiparticles for long enough to run experiments on them.
But this is the first time that trapped antimatter has ever been taken on the road.