I’m luckier than most at the moment. I work from home anyway, so no disruption there. Plus I have a wife and daughter to keep me company, a cat, ten brand new chickens and a slice of the New Forest to hang out in.
I’m feeling blessed for all those things.
However, I have no way of meeting people face to face to talk watches. That’s normally how I get a lot of enjoyment, and whenever someone buys one anyway, it’s also how I earn money for my dotage and help keep some great Saxon watchmakers in a job.
So I’ve launched this website. The plan is to keep having conversations, raise Moritz Grossmann’s profile, design some bespoke watches maybe and, I really hope, keep selling pieces bit by bit and keep a Glashütte factory working.
Please feel free to get in touch. It might stop us all going mad!
Wannabe chickens – save us from madness
If you’ve found this website, you probably know I visited Glasgow recently.
You’ll also know that I did some stuff with ScottishWatches.co.uk
Check out the Tock Show.
Glasgow is a great place to visit. Friendly as it gets.
But weird stuff happens too. Arriving at the city centre hotel with German colleague Sandra, a full blown Rab C. Nesbitt moment happened. We had to pick our way past a slanging match in the lobby. Pushing, shoving, shouting, swearing – police called, the works. Apparently, one of the regulars at the hotel bar had been ‘listening’ to a neighbouring conversation. Boom.
Rab C Nesbitt
Plus, when she was in a cab from the airport to the middle of town, she gave the address, then the cabbie started making conversation. She couldn’t help it, she had to say “I am very sorry, I do not understand you.”
Then a miracle happened. The cabbie asked if she was German. She said yes. Turns out he lived and worked in Dresden for several years – i.e. Sandra’s home town, 30 minutes from Glashütte. So they chatted happily in German all the way into town. She understood everything. Which, truthfully, is more than I could say for my conversation with my cabbie. It takes me a while to tune in when I head to Glasgow. But I get there in the end, and it’s always worth it.
It was Sandra’s first visit to Scotland and it didn’t disappoint.