All adults have, in their memory, the places which defined their childhood. They just have to shut their eyes to visualize them and the feelings associated with these places come flooding back. When I plunge nostalgically into the memories of my childhood, the entire space is taken up by one imposing place: my father's castle.  My father began his adventure as a castle owner shortly after my sixth birthday. One evening in the beginning of autumn, he suddenly left our apartment with a heavy black suitcase in his hand. He was misty-eyed when he kissed us for the last time – my brother, my siste