In the middle of the night in Broome, Western Australia, I was standing in a phone booth, in conversation with my lawyer in Amsterdam, The Netherlands. I was standing between intoxicated Aboriginal people sitting on the pavement around the phone booth, the only light in the dark surroundings. It was all so surreal that I knew there was a story to tell. A story that began with the demolition of the Jewish quarter in Amsterdam, which progressed to conflicts with people driven by greed and 6 years of living in a car in a parking lot in the Australian outback.