Is that a $6,500 Vertu in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see me?

I was walking through the Westfield Mall here in San Francisco when I came across a high-end watch place by the name of Tourneau. This is, apparently, the place to buy Vertu mobile handsets – as I was about to find out. I had a peer in the window and went about with my business, wondering why a fancy shop that sells watches has set aside perhaps 1% of it’s floor space for the handsets.

I got back to base and found an email from an SMS Text News reader in London by the name of Martin. Also my brother.

“I read that you were in San Francisco and wondered if you could go and check out these Vertu handsets and possibly buy me one?” he asked.

He then gave me the link to Tourneau and pointed me in the direction of the shop. Which I’d just come from. Coincidence!

I perhaps little known fact is that I regularly work as an unofficial mobile handset supplier for SMS Text News readers in remote parts of the world who want to get hold of the latest technology. Martin’s request was unusual. Most folk want an unlocked Nokia N95 or a Sony. Why a Vertu? And, er, why a 6 grand one?

I called him up and fired some questions at him. It’s slightly unnerving, from a geek viewpoint, having your brother obsessing over a handset. I am the family mobile geek.

Martin likes the concept, the idea, the thought of a Vertu. He’s actually been on about getting one of these for years. I’ve often stayed silent and other times I’ve applied a slight hint of ridicule along the lines of “A Vertu is a £40 Nokia with two zeros added on.” Whilst I appreciate that they are machined and designed, I have quite a lot of demands from a handset that I’ll use daily — a key requirement being a camera and a decent web browser. Neither or which I felt the Vertu has. Or had.

“Just go and look at them will you?” he asked. A bit exasperated with me.

I headed down to the shop and found a salesman. An efficient chap by the name of David.

“So, pitch me the Vertu?” I asked.

David began by pointing out that the Vertu is not too dissimilar from a standard Nokia in the context that the internal mobile bits are Nokia.

“The rest,” David continued, “is all Vertu,”.

You can drive over it, he reckoned. Cool. I wasn’t about to try that with a $6,500 phone, but it’s nice to know.

Solid titanium. Oh nice. It’s all about the strength to weight issue apparently. Hmm. I gently, ever so slowly, put away my plasticy Nokia N95 as David brought out one of the Ascent series handsets for me to look at:

I took the Ascent into my hand and weighed it whilst I learned that the outer casing is forged at 850 degrees in an 800-ton press and that it is engineered so precisely that when the two halves are bolted together, the seam is all but invisible. Right. Not quite your average Nokia then.

I could feel the I-want-one gleam build inside me as David continued chatting away about it.

Each side of the handset is trimmed in leather. Real leather. Heh.

The screen, the camera lens and flash are all protected by sapphire crystal. I did my best ‘Oh interesting’ look. I think David understood that I wasn’t quite up to speed on sapphire crystal or its properties. It is, apparently, so hard that it must be cut and polished by diamond-tipped tools. No mass produced plastic moulds for this handset, then.

David was particularly enamoured with the ceramic speaker or, as they call it in the trade, “The ear pillow”. This is made from the same ceramic material that protects the Space Shuttle. Engineered so you can actually hear through it as well.

The Vertu logo? Made from a material used to strengthen industrial drill bits. OK.

“Just to be clear then David, this handset shouldn’t get scratched by my keys when in my pocket?”

“No.”

Ok. I like it. I like the idea of it. It felt weighty and solid in my hands. I did like the idea of explaining to people that you can drive a car over the handset and it’ll still work.

I did think it’s particularly cool that the ear piece is ceramic.

“And there’s the concierge service!” David explained, “You just press this button and they’ll help you out. Get you the tickets you want, the table you want, whatever.”

Ok. I get the engineering. I see there’s a market for people who thoroughly appreciated very well engineered devices — I happen to like the weight and balance of Mont Blanc pens. I can still use a BIC biro, but I do like to have a Mont Blanc. (Although I think I’ve lost BOTH of them recently). So I can see why someone would want to buy a Vertu and pay a lot more than your standard handset for the privilege of owning a piece of engineering excellence.

But why the concierge?

My brother keeps going on about this particular feature as though it’s the kicker and the key reason for buying the handset. The write up on the Torneau site explains:

On the side of each handset is the Vertu Concierge key. A single push connects you to a world of personal service, day or night, at home or away. Vertu Concierge is your technical expert, lifestyle assistant and personal shopper. It is an exclusive service, only for Vertu owners.

Or you could just join global concierge service, Quintessentially.

I’m sold on the handset. Not the price. Not yet. I would much rather use 3,250 UK pounds or $6,500 US dollars in another manner (to buy 10 other handsets, for example). But I get the brilliance of the engineering.

I phoned Martin when I left the shop and put it to him.

“Want me to buy one for you then? Are you going to send me the money?” I asked.

“Well…….”

He’s still thinking about it.

The trouble with a Vertu, I suspect, is that you have to use it now and again. It’s a bit overt, isn’t it? I like to have nice things but I don’t know if I want to be advertising that I’ve blown a good few grand on my mobile every time I use it in public.

I didn’t mind being phonejacked for my N95 as I just got another one by 10am the next day courtesy of insurance. What would the insurance be on a Vertu?

Hmm.

If Santa brought me one for Christmas, I don’t think I’d say no…