Nevertheless, something about the whole Gefica story made me a little suspicious. Surely this was just another oddball Genta watch made from weird materials, sporting quirky fonts and a generally unreadable time display. Nothing of real interest to a serious collector. The hype would dissolve quickly, and those who'd been sucked in by it would be left with a rapidly-depreciating turkey skulking furtively in the furthest recesses of their top drawer.

Then I encountered the real thing for the first time, at the GG stand at Tempus, Singapore, in September last year. I was able to see and handle both flavours of the Gefica - the immediately recognisable, much-photographed black dial version seen in all of GG's official publicity materials...

...and its mysterious spiritual shadow, the haunting and evocative silver-dialled Gefica. It was this latter iteration which attracted me like a moth to a flame, like a fly to ointment, or like Bernard to a Tenga. (An interesting aside - Genta and Tenga are of course anagrams of each other.)

There were plenty of seriously horny watches at Tempus, but the silver dial Gefica (which I prefer to dub "cream", perhaps in subconscious tribute to the Tenga connection) was one of the few that actually had me walking away doubled-over. There's no doubt that GG's design team have really hit their stride in recent years, and the excellence of Genta's innards is finally being matched by some stunning design work whose wilful over-the-topness is thankfully now generally underscored by true creative brilliance.

But the Gefica - the true Gefica, the one and only Gefica, the cream dial Gefica - that's a different story again. Like Bizet with Carmen , Frans Hals with his Laughing Cavalier , or Salinger with The Catcher in the Rye , this is a creation which in its iconic iconoclasm threatens to usurp utterly the fame of its author.

GG's conception was good: reissue the old Gefica Safari bronze-cased watch, re-imagined for our new millenium with better manufacturing, a better movement, bolder design and more macho dimensions. The execution - the result - that's something different again. With all the stars aligned - strong, experienced and confident management, a runs-on-the-board watchmaking team and an on-song design department - everything appears to have come together at the right time for the creation of a True Classic of horological design.

This is a watch which will be remembered, not forgotten.

Why am I so keen on this new Gefica's "cream" dial version? Admittedly (and it's worth pointing out here that both versions sport large expanses of bronze colouring in their central, flat sectors; nevertheless, there can be no doubt that the predominant colour is that of the spherically-concave and topologically complex dual-register surface I call the "dial"), a black dial imbues the Gefica watch with greater immediate visual impact, and suggests a day/night dichotomy entirely appropriate to this model's evocation of sub-Saharan Africa.

But equipped with a cream dial, this new Gefica becomes a different beast again. It moves from its wearer's wrist, directly into the imaginary world of the literary savannah, and onwards into the iris of the hunted prey. The dust of romantic Africa of our dreams inheres to this cream dial's fabric; it's like the mane of a lion, the haze of a Kilimanjaro sunset; it's the bones of Australopithecus bleaching in the ancient sands of a long-dry riverbed. With a cream dial, this new watch becomes immediately an old watch, a prehistoric watch, a Jurassic watch; and the bronze casing, as it tarnishes and changes colour, grows into its dial like moss into stone.

I mentioned my strong preference for the cream dial to GG's CEO Gerald Roden during his recent Shanghai visit, and the response was interesting: apparently his original conception was for a single cream-dial release, but others within the management team pressed for a black-dial alternative. It turns out that, based on orders placed, the black dial has proven more popular. This is perhaps not surprising, for two reasons: firstly, GG in its wisdom has decided only to release publicity shots of the black-dial watch; and, given that this is a big, big timepiece, the proven ability of a black dial to "downsize" a watch's visual impact on the wrist has doubtless swayed some carpally-challenged individuals to veer that way.

Be that as it may, to my mind the cream-dial Gefica is the one and only, the ultimate Gefica. It is the true African Gefica, the Gefica of dust and desert, of sand and stone.

After all, who ever heard of a black Safari suit?

The Review

At first, I didn't want a Gefica. Then I encountered the real thing at Tempus. Finally I strapped a cream-dial Gefica to my wrist at the Shanghai Boutique back in March this year - and I knew instantly that it had to be mine. Have you ever popped a watch on, not thinking for a moment that you would ever buy it, and then seeing and feeling it on your wrist, been instantly converted into a seething mass of irrepressible possessiveness? (Of course you have - you're a Purist.)

Of course, there was the minor inconvenience of having to find the money. Fortunately, the boutique staff very graciously agreed to hold the piece for me against a suitable deposit. The very next day I flew out to attend Baselworld and SIHH; I didn't actually manage to pick my Gefica up until several weeks later - just a few days before my birthday, in fact.

In the intervening period a certain amount of oxidation had already appeared on the bronze case. I'm not sure whether there's any way of storing these watches so that this doesn't happen - certainly, were it not for the extreme rarity of the Gefica (delivered pieces still amount only to a couple of dozen, one whole year after the model's release at Baselworld '07) and its consequent tendency to walk out of shop doors within seconds of arriving - this could cause a bit of a headache for GG. It would be all too easy to identify a "shop-soiled" watch, because it really would look shop-soiled.

It appeared that I was thus being denied the pleasure of seeing my watch develop its patina from brand-new on my own wrist - my own fault really, as I should have simply paid in full and walked out the door with it when it was all squeaky clean and golden. On the other hand, I suppose I could be satisfied that I had received a "pre-antiqued" piece at no extra cost.

Interestingly, the Gefica manual states that owners can ask for the case to be "restored" back to an untarnished state during servicing. While such a request may seem to be missing one of the main "points" of this watch, it is in fact reassuring to know that such a reversal is possible. After all, should one ever fall upon hard times and need to liquidate the damn thing, one may find that buyers are not always keen to inherit someone else's patina.

But it turns out you don't even need to wait for a service. Inside the gorgeous croco-effect leather wallet which comes with the watch (also containing the manual, warranty/certificates and so on) is a little pen-like object which contains a glass-fibre brush.

This proves to be an ideal tool for removing surface oxidation crusts from the bronze parts of the case. I tried it out tonight on a small section of one of the lugs, and it proved so effective (and satisfying) that I couldn't stop. I've now cleaned my entire watch - with the exception of the domed crown, which I have left with its patina in situ - and I will henceforth be able to observe the development of my Gefica's patina from a pristine state after all. This may well be the first and last time I ever "clean" this watch.

A word of warning though: as I worked, thousands of microscopic shards of millimetre-long, micron-thick glass fibre were being released as an aerosol which ended up coating my hands, forearms and face - and doubtless I breathed in a few as well. Inhaled glass fibre is a known carcinogen, so I'll be checking my chest x-rays for early signs of mesothelioma starting about 25 years from now. My advice to erstwhile Gefica restoration artistes is to equip yourselves with latex gloves and a face mask for this task.

Now comes an important point for Gefica enthusiasts with Paneristic tendencies. Make sure you get all the packaging materials, to wit: outer white cardboard box, intermediate black cardboard box with "G" stamp on top, the actual inner presentation box in croco-stamped shiny black leather, featuring interior upholstery in red leather and the actual watch cushion again in black; matching leather "wallet" as described previously; glass-fibre brush; push-piece stylus; certificate/warranty booklet; owner's manual; after-sale service centre booklet; (not sure if this next one is really part of the official package) a little red folder containing the invoice of sale; AND...the little red leather GG hang-tag with attached lab timing results. (OK OK, I know, it's all much too anal, but hey - there are people who are really into this stuff, alright?)

Well, I'd say it's about time to strap this sucker on and take it for a spin, don't you think?

On the wrist, the Gefica is surprisingly comfortable despite its massive dimensions and considerable heft. This is due to the extremely clever (and elegant) lug design - not only do these lugs curve sensuously around one's forearm, but lateral projection beyond the case's margins is in fact fairly minimal. The result is that the watch hugs one's arm snugly, seeming to bubble up out of it in a satisfyingly organic way.

A generously wide and robustly constructed alligator strap ensures minimal slippage and forms an integral part of the overall design. I simply cannot imagine this watch with a bracelet and I hope GG never make one for it.

Apart from anything else, fitting the Gefica with a bracelet would mean missing out on the incredible titanium double deployant buckle which comes as standard equipment. This is the best deployant I have ever used - it's feather-light, with asymmetric wing widths which perfectly solve that standard annoyance of all double-deployants digging into the volar aspect of one's forearm.

 Its lightness comes from the use of titanium, coupled with a fascinatingly architectural yet organic skeletonisation of the buckle's componentry.

This deployant flexes and arches its back for all the world like a museum dinosaur come to life, and if it weren't for the fact that most dinosaur bones come from Canada and not Africa, I'd be trying my hardest to cram in yet another oh-so-clever simile at this point in the review.

Another nice thing about this deployant is the "snap". This is another critical aspect of deployant design: does it "snap" into place, does it stay in place, and is it easy to release? The answer to all three questions, in the case of the Gefica's deployant, is a resounding "yes". This may have something to do with titanium as a material, or it may be due to the shape of the parts - to be truthful I think it's the titanium. Thank goodness GG got it right for this one - the woeful deployants on their recent steel-bracelet Mickeys could do with an urgent spot of Gefication.

Now let's look at the Gefica's casework. In an industry gripped by "fusion" fever, it seems a near impossibility to come up with a new combination of two simple materials - yet this is exactly what GG have done. Bronze and titanium - heavy and light - old and new - dull and, erm, dull. Well, this is a Safari watch after all: the design brief of the original Gefica was for a non-reflective case, and boy, is this ever a non-reflective case.

Beading is a signature feature of just about all the early Gérald Genta designs - those created by the man himself for his eponymous brand. Two circumferential bands of beading featured in the original Gefica from 1989, and these have been carried over into the new case, along with an extra set around the crown. Rings of beads run around the outer rim of the watch's bezel as well as the outer rim of the caseback, forming a parallel pair of arcs. The beaded crown creates a further visual focal point, as it's much smaller, and offset in a plane tilted at 90 degrees to the other two.

The crown itself is a simply wonderful piece of design. It's big, bold, spherical, easy to grab and twirl, and it looks...well...African. Or maybe just tribal. A bit of both. I don't know, it looks like a Gefica. It's the single best bit of the entire watch. Like an erect nipple, it's just asking to be tweaked. And being rather exposed - both to it's owner's sweat and to the notoriously fickle savannah weather - it quickly develops its own patina.

Arcing over all of this brilliant casework like a rainbow on Lake Tanganyika, is an anti-relective sapphire crystal of perfectly regular curvature. One of the things that marks the Gefica out as a truly inspired piece of design art is the symbiosis of all its elements. Take away this bold swoop of glass and the watch would just not work. Put it back in, and the design comes alive.

The dials of Gérald Genta watches have become progressively more outrageous over recent years - crammed as they are with oozing and protruding bubbles, regular and irregular polygons, running hot and cold lacquers, the occasional louche cartoon character, and a burgeoning cacophony of retrograde displays bulging into and overlapping each other. It can all get a bit difficult at times. Thankfully the Gefica's display is relatively restrained in this respect, being limited to a fairly standard suite of GG functions: sweep retrograde minutes register in the upper half, jumping hour window at 12 o'clock, central non-retrograde seconds hand, and retrograde date register centred on 6 o'clock. It's not exactly easy to read, but hey, if it were, this wouldn't be a Gérald Genta watch, would it?

Several design features propel the Gefica's dial into the realms of the exceptional. Firstly one notices the concave sweep of its main register - the "cream" section. There are two cutouts in this "reversed dome" which create the dial's two retrograde displays as well as revealing multiple deeper layers - three in total, including (from deep to superficial) a jumping hour disc; a pair of flat, bronze-coloured background sections with horizontal relief lines; and a pair of thin copper-coloured chapter rings for the retrograde hands. Where the cutouts occur, the cream surface is reflected vertically downwards to meet these deeper layers. It's an endlessly fascinating interplay of intersecting 3D shapes.

The Gefica's hands are equally intriguing. Its minute hand is impossible to describe - the shape is just too whacky. But there is of course method in the madness: it's designed to interfere as little as possible with lines of sight to the jumping-hour window over which it must pass once per hour. The date hand is a Mini-Me version which lends a certain repetitive consistency to what's on view. And finally, there's a centrally mounted sweep seconds hand, in GG's signature red (matching perfectly the red digits of the jumping-hour disc). All three hands are gently curved upwards in order to clear the cream dial's concave swoop. In the case of the seconds hand in particular, getting this exactly right must cause considerable headaches for the poor guy or gal who has to mount the wretched thing onto its arbor.

Turning the Gefica over, we find a titanium caseback secured by pentagonal-head titanium screws, surrounding a conventionally-flat sapphire display window. (Yes, something about this watch is conventional - amazing, isn't it?)