Born amongst the Seven Hills and travelling twenty-one countries since, the mysterious and handsomely swarthy bass player heard a distant call.

Across India, Asia, Hungary and Greece, the siren teased him, luring him at last to the sunny beaches of San Diego. It was here that the final verse was sung.

The spell was cast. He left the ocean's side for the mountain's desert where Juana Ghani waited, arms open in an embrace that reached beyond the boundaries of time.