"The world of watchmaking was like stepping into a lineage, you know? My grandfather was a watchmaker, my father too, and here I am, continuing the legacy out of a little shop in Geneva, which is pretty much the heart of it all. Mornings start with a meticulous routine—precision is everything in this line of work. A strong espresso kick-starts the day, no sugar, just straight up, like the mechanisms I work with. It's mostly repair work these days—bringing old timepieces back to life, each one with its own story, its own era. You wouldn't believe the kind of history that walks through my door; from pocket watches that have seen wars to luxury wristwatches that have adorned the wrists of celebrities. Lunch is usually brief, a sandwich from the café across the street, eaten at my workbench because, honestly, taking time off during a complex repair can throw off my whole groove. The afternoons are for the finer details, the intricate adjustments that can mean the difference between a watch that works and a watch that sings. It’s delicate, often frustrating, but when you hear the tick perfectly sync up, it’s like music. Now, balancing personal life and work, that’s another kind of craftsmanship. My wife, she’s been with me through thick and thin, knows when the shop is consuming me. We try to make time for each other, simple moments like enjoying a meal together. Dinners are our time to reconnect, maybe some fresh pasta or whatever we feel like cooking up. And on days off, I indulge in my favorite local dish—raclette. Melty cheese over potatoes, pickles, and onions, it’s rustic, unpretentious, and incredibly satisfying, much like the satisfaction I get when restoring a century-old watch. It’s about preserving history, one tick at a time, making sure each second counts."
