Ever since I was young, I’ve been fascinated by the measurement of time. Mechanical clocks emerged in Europe in the late 13th century, striking bells to mark the hours long before dials and hands were commonplace. By the 15th and 16th centuries, clock‑making had flourished: intricate mechanisms built around the elegant principle of energy travelling through gears and wheels, controlled by an escapement and regulator.

There are brilliant explanations online for how it all works, but nothing beats seeing it in action. For an early birthday, my daughter, Esme, received a model clock kit that demonstrates the power source, gearing, escapement and regulation beautifully. Watching her build it brought the magic of mechanical timekeeping to life all over again.

I own some antique clocks, including a brass‑dial walnut longcase clock from around 1710. Made entirely without modern tools or electricity, it still runs for eight days and keeps time to within around 30 seconds a week. The craftsmanship is astonishing — and humbling. I’ve no doubt it will outlive me.

Now shrink that entire system onto a wrist. From pocket watches in the 17th century to wristwatches after World War I, the idea of wearing this mechanical marvel on your arm is one of the things that keeps me utterly hooked.