A Polish woman, a French man

Their paths cross by chance on day at a Mexican restaurant... in Paris. Of course.

It happened immediately.

Music, that same evening, in a tiny bedsit above Canal St Martin one October night.

We write songs.

It's our diary.

Our sandbox.

Other musicians come and go.

We are on the platforms of countless stations and endless airports, we are in bars and houses round europe, always, in between one journey and another.