Tapolca is a very beautiful little town.
The little lake in the heart of the city is very nice, so is the underground lake, where my wife and I did a spot of rowing in a small dinghy.
Sometime before WWII we lived in Szigliget.
My family spent a Christmas night with some friends at Tapolca about 12 km away.
I was only about four years old, I think.
I was running around, playing until I fell and badly cut my forehead.
For years I was made to believe that it was a door handle.
Nowadays I find it hard to understand, how can a four years old run into a door handle.
However the fact is that the cut was deep and took some time heal.
While I felt sorry for myself, while it was healing, my dear mother tried to console me by saying, "Don't worry, you won't even remember it by the time you grow up to be a soldier."
The scar was visible for thirty or forty years.
I will remember Tapolca for ever, I suppose.
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