Desert moon Gray, wet Luxembourg is a land of high living standards and low crime rates. Reserve for bankers and hereditary nobles. The place is as prosperous as it is boring. Weekends are filled with hunting, molecular cuisine and secular conversation. People with an original sense of humor also have the option of watching tourists meditating on medieval castles. Expositions in museums of modern art in vain try to make a note of chaoticness in the well-established scheme of dull and idyllic landscapes, fashionable business centers and the future planned for decades ahead.
Georges works as a controller on a local train. In total, he circled the globe several times, but he never visited anywhere. On weekends, Georges defends the gates of the local football team. A stable job, an interesting hobby, a paralyzed father and a blonde bride make up his life.
George's measured life was threatened as soon as she appeared in it. An Algerian immigrant, Yemina, with a troubled past, an unsettling present, and a vague future. Alluring like an oasis, burning like the Sahara. Autumn clothing hardly hides the figure of Salma Hayek, and the eyes of the frightened deer radiate human dignity and readiness to fight for their honor and freedom. One day, the past catches up with Yemina and she appears on the train Georges with marks of severe beatings on her face. He shelters her in his summer cabin and quickly becomes her friend. However, the spark of the incipient feeling does not have time to flare up properly, since soon Yemina disappears as suddenly as she appeared.
A small investigation leads the inexperienced Luxembourger first to France and then to Algeria. Georges, who has hitherto overcome only his own fear of penalties, now has to overcome thousands of kilometers of distance and an ocean of cultural differences. This is where the fun starts. Unreliable storytellers come from all over the place, and God will never come out of the car. Georges' obsessive voyage is becoming more and more like an acid trip. Language and cultural barriers cannot stop a man. The ominous distrust of the locals is no longer frightening. Blue-eyed blonde, he is ready with the zeal of Lawrence of Arabia to rush into the heart of the desert for the ghostly opportunity to feel the touch of her hand again. The sun is mercilessly roasting, and the young month seems to mock the hapless hero. The prison cell compresses the body in the grip of fever, and the new freedom threatens with sunstroke. There's no going back. It is necessary to continue the movement under the cover of heaven. The blood of the past does not dry out even under the scorching sun. Mirages succeed each other. Only under soft black stars can you find peace for a while. The camel caravan must be heading to Tabel Bala. In a fabulous oasis, as if descended from a picture on the wall of a restaurant serving couscous.