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My first film festival trip began like crazy story. I've never been at such a big festival like "Berlinale" before, but I've been twice in Germany in my childhood. In the eve of this departure we had a photocall till 5 am. All the morning I tried to pack a luggage and not to fall asleep. Mission looked like impossible and it was. I didn't want to go, didn't want to see tens of films, hundreds of stars and thousands of mad paparazzi (I'm not delighted in connection with them). I just wanted to sleep… few hours or few minutes… to sleep. Twenty minutes before the train we jumped into the car and drove to the railway station (all the way takes 15-40 minutes – depends on TOD). We were running away from the car to the train, but it was too late… My 261 carriage (that train must be longest in the world) with another 260 (I guess so) carriages and farewell yellow flag was going to the West without me. I was crashed, tired and disappointed. But I didn't give up! We returned to the car and began to shadow the train 13. My train! There wasn't another way to the Berlin this day… and I had to be in. Train like a ghost was hiding in the fog, and it had flown away when we came to the next intermediate station. Next few hours on the journey to the last possible train stop (until train crossed the border with Poland) car had broken; we tinkered it up and were riding on the centre strip in the rain, because missed the right way in the darkness. I haven't sleep about 24 hours and I was afraid to fall asleep because driver was tired. It was madness as is. Finally in Brest I found my ghost-train in the farther corner of the station. I couldn't believe it, neither my neighbors. One of them started to tell scary stories about robbers. So I was scared, tired, sleepy… damn. But I got Berlin :)
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